


We All Love To Hate, Until We Start To Love.

by sincerely_inge



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Hate to Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mutual Pining, Poor Louis, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, Rich Harry, Slow Burn, more like uncertainty to love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:32:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 91,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerely_inge/pseuds/sincerely_inge
Summary: Louis comes from a poor family.Harry comes from a rich family.Harry likes to help people with his money.Louis is not a fucking charity.





	1. Chapter I.

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic ever on here, so let’s pray to a God that I don’t believe in that this is going to go well.  
> Also, English isn’t my first language. I’m Dutch. Sorry for any mistakes in advance!

Louis doesn't like being the victim. He sure as hell doesn't like being treated like one. His life wasn't exactly the best, but he'd punch anybody who'd dare to say something about it.

This attitude started showing up when the twins were born and his step-father Mark took off without a word. His mother, Jay, had Louis when she was eighteen, and thus had never been able to get some sort of a degree. Now, this wasn't a giant problem, considering she was in a relationship with Louis' dad, and then with Mark. This meant that there was always money, and there was no reason for his mum to get a job, let alone an actual degree. So when Mark left without warning, there was nothing for them to fall back to. Zero income. So Louis took a job. And then another one. And then a third. Working three jobs and trying to have an actual education at the same time was close to impossible. He was practically in a permanent state of exhaustion, feeling lucky whenever he got six hours of sleep. Jay had a job at a diner that demanded too many hours for too little money. Her free time spent on taking care of the girls whenever he couldn't, she was often too tired for a proper social life too. 

Louis' life used to be different. He used to have friends, multiple, instead of just one, and he used to go out and have fun with said friends, and get genuinely good grades. Now he just had Niall who for God knows what reason stuck around (not that Louis wasn't thankful), he never went out anymore, and his grades were decent to bad. It wasn't like he had a choice. It was either this or living on the streets. That didn't prevent him from hating his life, though. He hated every hour of every day, except the hours he spent with his mum and sisters, which were rare--too rare. But no matter how much he hated it all, he went through it, because he loved his family, and would fling himself into the ocean if he had to for them.

That was where his attitude came from. He busted his arse every single day for at least a kind of normal life, trying to create the best environment and childhood he could for his sisters, and if anyone even dared to say something, he'd fight them on the bloody spot.

And now here he was, working a night shift at a diner, a different one from his mum's, ready to repeatedly slam his head against the wall until he forgot his own name. "Hi, welcome to The Eatery, can I take your order?" He asked, his voice monotone like he was a preprogrammed robot saying the same sentences over and over again. He wasn't, but he definitely felt like it.

"Louis?" the voice said. Louis looked up from his notepad with a bored expression, disinterested in who recognised him now. It was a guy from school he had seen a few times. He had dark brown hair up in a quiff with a weak hint of curls, a square jaw and dark brown eyes that reminded Louis of a Labrador puppy.

"Yes?" Louis said, making a point to keep his expression as dead as possible.

"Louis Tomlinson, right?"

"The one and only, now can I take your order?"

"Don't we have English together?"

Louis sighed. "Alright, listen, mate, I'm just trying to do my job here, so either order or let me get to my next table, yeah?" He said. The guy looked surprised for a moment, before nodding vigorously.

"Right, yeah, sorry," he quickly said. "I'll have a coffee, that's all."

Louis frowned, looking at the guy for a few moments, trying to remember his name. He couldn't remember it for the life of him. "Just coffee? Don't you need to eat?" he asked, not understanding why he was continuing the conversation with the guy.

"Well, it's eleven pm, and I'm just trying to stay awake," he explained, adding a small shrug and a careful smile. "And eating this late is bad for your body, so."

"Suit yourself," Louis said, breathing in deeply through his nose and walking over to the kitchen to get the guy his coffee. Whilst doing so, his manager approached him. Tom. Tom with the blonde hair and green eyes and perfectly straight, white teeth: just as straight and white as he was himself. If Louis had the time and the patience for it, he would've attempted to date Tom: but Tom was straight, and Louis didn't have the time nor the patience. "Who's the lad checking you out?" Tom asked with a grin. It was that type of grin that implied they knew something, something you seemed to not know. And when Tom had that type of grin, he was always wrong. 

"I don't know his name," Louis answered, curtly enough to tell his manager to drop the subject. "And he's not checking me out."

He started walking back to the sort-of-stranger's table, but Tom didn't give up. "A queer teen like you needs to get laid at least once every week, Louis!" He called after him. There weren't a lot of people in a downtown diner at midnight, but the people who were there looked up at Tom's voice, right at Louis. He would've jumped out the window right then and there, but they were on the ground floor, and he would only get a few cuts from the glass instead of properly breaking an arm or leg. Maybe even his neck.

"Not a queer, Tom," Louis called back, thinking that _fuck it_ , he was embarrassed enough already. "Bisexual is more like it."

He put the cup of coffee down in front of the guy, who was watching him with interest. "I'm not blowing you in the back, if that's what you're thinking," Louis quickly told him at the look he got. The guy's lips curled up into a smirk that only lasted a second.

"That wasn't what I was thinking," he said. "I was thinking that you look like you're going to pass out from boredom and equal embarrassment any moment." Louis scoffed, refusing to admit that that was close to the truth. "And I'm taken, too, so I don't need you to blow me."

"The bitter disappointment I'm feeling," Louis sarcastically said, starting to walk away again.

"It's Liam, by the way," the guy, who Louis finally remembered to be Liam, called after him. Louis paused in his step, turning around with raised brows.

"What?" He asked, not letting it shine through that he was a little impressed and also embarrassed. There was just too much embarrassment a person can handle in one night.

"My name's Liam," Liam said with a grin. "I could tell you couldn't remember."

Oh, how lovely.

❈ 

Louis woke up with a jolt at the sound of his alarm blaring in his ears. He looked around in confusion before realising that he was, in fact, in his room, woken up by his alarm and not, in fact, the fire alarm.

"Jesus," he muttered, blindly tapping his phone screen in a pathetic attempt at shutting off the noise. His attempts proved fruitless when the sound kept going, and he was forced to lift his head and grab his phone to properly shut off the sound. He dropped his head on his pillow with a dramatic groan at the sight of the 6:30 on his screen.

"Fuck's sake."

He slowly dragged himself out of bed, realising that he had never even gone under the covers, but had dropped onto the bed without even changing into his sleepwear. He was still wearing his uniform from the diner. He sighed, slipping out of his clothes and putting some clean ones on. He put on plenty of deodorant, probably too much, and then added his cheap cologne to it because he just didn't have the energy to take a shower.

He walked out of his room, opening the first door to the twins' bedroom. "Pheebs, Dais, time to get up for school," he said. The two of them groaned. "I know, darlin', me too," Louis said with a chuckle.

He then moved on to the next room, where Félicité slept. "Goodmornin', darlin'," he said, stroking her brown hair. "Time to get up."

He waited for her to yawn and sit up, and then he moved on to the third and final door, where Lottie, the eldest, slept. He knocked on it, waiting for the regular "Awake!" before walking to the bathroom.

He let out a disgusted sound at the sight of himself. He had heavy bags under his eyes that were actually starting to have a blueish tint to it, his eyes dull and his skin paler than usual due to his lack of sleep. He had a total of three hours last night. He got home at one and then had to study for two hours for his test today. He was most likely going to fail, but at least he put an effort in it. That counted too. Just not in the actual grading system.

He brushed his hair quickly--it was getting long, he needed to get Lottie to cut his hair again--and then sighed dramatically, not bothering with putting any product in his hair. He swiftly descended the stairs, walking into the kitchen. He took out some bowls, cereal and milk and putting it down on the table. Putting the kettle on, opening up the fridge again in the hopes of finding something to make for school. He found some things, along with it an abandoned Redbull. He put together some lunches for his sisters, realising he only had enough for them and not himself.

The first negative of the day already.

Then he heard the stumbling of footsteps, a short pause and then a loud thud. Then there was a loud wail. "Bloody hell," Louis muttered, putting the knife down and quickly walking to the stairs to find Phoebe at the bottom, crying with her hand on her knee.

"Okay, alright, what happened, Pheebs?" Louis asked, crouching down in front of her. "Did you fall again?"

"The stairs were mean," Phoebe cried. "They made me fall!"

"Okay, okay, where does it hurt?" Louis asked, simultaneously trying to shush her in order not to wake their mum. "Your knee? Does your knee hurt?" Phoebe nodded. Louis put his hand on her knee, muttering 'the magic pain removal spell' and then kissing it, causing his young sister to giggle. He gave her a grin, helping her stand up.

"Good job, Pheebs, let's get you some breakfast, alright?" He suggested, Phoebe already in the kitchen before he could finish his sentence.

A few minutes later, everybody else was sitting at the kitchen table except for Jay, who was still asleep upstairs.

These mornings were, without fail, almost always identical every single day. Louis would wake up half an hour before the others and get ready before waking them. Then he'd wake them, go downstairs and make breakfast. Either Phoebe or Daisy would trip down the stairs, Louis would help them, and they'd eat breakfast together. It had been like this for the past years now. They had gotten used to this routine quickly, a lot quicker than Louis would've preferred. He often theorised that if they'd had more trouble, maybe his sisters would've taken some responsibility in certain areas. Lottie, for example, was perfectly capable of doing laundry and making breakfast. It would grant Louis another half hour of sleep every night, which, he assumed, made all the difference. She was only eleven years old, but most definitely the smartest out of everyone in the family. And doing laundry wasn't difficult: divide the colours, choose the detergent that fits the colours, and guess whatever heat you need. If Louis could figure it out, Lottie most definitely could.

"What's a bluff?" She then asked, pulling Louis out of his thoughts.

"It's when you pretend to be better than you are," Louis lazily explained, half aware that that definitely wasn't entirely correct. "Like when you say you can lift 30 pounds, but it's actually 10."

"Like when you said you only liked girls?" Félicité then bluntly asked. Louis' eyebrows shot up, trying to find the exact turn of the conversation where they, once again, had gotten to the topic of his sexuality.

"No, that was just a lie," Louis then decided to say.

"So is a bluff the same as a lie?" Lottie asked. Louis groaned, rubbing his face in agitation.

"I don't know, Lotts, maybe," he said, too tired to come up with a better answer. The more he attempted to think about her question, the less he understood.

He had no idea how in the world he was going to pass his English test today if he couldn't even answer whether there was a difference between bluffing and lying.

"I guess it depends on the context," he then weakly added. He took out his phone, checking the time to see that it was nearing a quarter to eight already. Becuase they didn't have a car at their disposal, they had to walk to school, so there was no way they would be on time if they'd leave any later than a quarter past eight.

"Alright, we got to leave soon, let's go brush teeth, come on," he said, clapping his hands together. "Come on! Come on! First one done gets to pick their lunch first!"

The female Tomlinsons scrambled up the stairs in a messy haste at his words.

Louis didn't think it important to mention that all the lunches were identical.

❈ 

"Alright, you two have a good day, yeah?" Louis said, kissing Phoebe's forehead and then ruffling Daisy's hair, who lately had been refusing a forehead kiss from her big brother. "I'm going to try to pick you two up, but if you don't see me look for Lottie, and if you can't find her either, wait inside and don't go with anyone, no matter what they say, got it?" 

The twins nodded.

"And wait inside, not outside like last time, alright? Gave me a bloody heart attack."

Another nod.

"Okay, go. I'll see you two this afternoon."

Louis watched his sisters walk inside, puffing out a breath as he checked the time, seeing that there was no way he was going to be on time for school. He quickly texted Niall to tell the teacher he was going to be late and didn't wait for a reply as he put his phone away and started his walk to school. 

It was getting cold out. They were already halfway through October, the winter slowly creeping up on the world. Louis' winter savings were supposed to come out soon. It was something he always did, saving up money throughout the summer to buy clothes in the winter. It was an entire system he had come up with. In the winter, the summer clothes were on sale, so he bought everything a size too big so that it would all fit by the time summer rolled around. The exact same matter in the summer.

At one point, Louis had bought a hoodie a size too big, not realising that he had already stopped growing, and was now wearing an oversized hoodie instead of an actual jacket. It kept him warm, which was the most important. He couldn't care less on whether he looked good in it. Looking good definitely wasn't part of his plan anymore. 

He proved this point further when he pulled the hood over his head and pushed his hands deep into the pockets of the over-sized item of clothing. He let out a deep sigh that practically came out of his toes at the sight of his beloved school. He wasn't really sure why he kept coming back, but for some reason, he did. Sometimes he thought it was because of Niall, who kept convincing him time and time again that it would pay off, or maybe because of his history teacher, who somehow made him feel better about getting a three on a test. Either way, it didn't stop him from hating school.

Sometimes he got sick of it, hating everything. It wasn't like he could help it, it was just his preprogrammed mind making the decision for him. Perhaps, one day, he'd find somebody who made him love instead of hate, even if it was just a little less. His mum kept telling him that. One day, Louis, one day, you'll look at somebody, and you won't feel hate, no matter how much they hurt you, because you love them so much, you could never get yourself to hate them.

Right.

Louis pushed (kicked) open the door to his classroom, pausing for just a second to meet his history teacher's eyes, Mr Collins, and then walked over to the back where Niall was sitting, alone.

"Mr Tomlinson, late yet again," his teacher called after him. "Maybe the school should change its starting time to half an hour later so that it'd suit you better."

"That'd be a great help, sir," Louis said, sitting down and taking his hood off. He didn't say anything else, instead just taking his books out. He could hear some people snicker,  at his reply, including Mr Collins, who then decided that continuing the lesson was the best option.

"Okay, so, as a result of--"

"Sir, shouldn't you discourage it?" A low, rough voice interrupted. Mr Collins turned to the voice with raised eyebrows. Louis couldn't see whoever it was that had called out.

"Discourage what, Mr Styles?"

Oh. Harry. Harry Styles. Millionaire boy, model-like appearance and charming personality Harry Styles.

"Favouritism." 

"How would it be favouritism?"

"You don't even ask for the reason why he's late, sir?" Harry said, leaning back in his chair so that Louis could finally see him. Not that he was staring or trying to get a look of him.

"Yeah, I have a reason. The reason I'm late is: mind your own fucking business," Louis snapped, only realising that he had said it out loud when everybody looked at him. 

And then Harry smirked at him.  _Fucking smirked_. Louis expected him to look offended, annoyed, something like that, but no, he looked amused and was  _still smirking_ and Louis wanted to slam his head into the table.

"Okay, alright, Mr Tomlinson, let's watch that language," Mr Collins quickly said, a hint of an amused smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "And for you, Mr Styles, it isn't the case of favouritism here. I already know why he's late, and you don't need to."

Louis hadn't felt so thankful in a while when his teacher continued his lesson, glad that nobody pushed him for his reason of being late. Collins knew what his life was like, and so did Niall, but there was nobody else that knew, and nobody else needed to. They would jst end up judging him, or worse, pitying him. Louis doesn't need pity. It was one of the reasons why he liked Niall so much. Niall never judged anybody. He didn't judge Louis when he comes to school with bags under his eyes and cheap clothes. He didn't judge Louis when he saw him walk out of a gay strip club wearing a stripper uniform to smoke (even though it was a very awkward moment). It was the reason why they became such good friends, because Niall didn't judge, and Louis needed some cheer in his life. If that cheer was in the shape of a dyed blonde Irish teenager, then so be it.

❈ 

It was during lunch that Louis really started to feel how tired he was. He had trouble keeping his eyes open, his head leaning heavy on his hand. He wasn't eating anything, considering that there had only been enough for his sisters. He hadn't even had breakfast yet. He'd most likely be starving at the end of the day, but so be it. His sisters got to eat, his mum got to eat: that was the most important part. Every negative had a positive, and Louis would happily carry the negative if it meant his family could have the positive.

His eyes fluttered open to find Niall watching him with  _that_ look. it wasn't a judgy look, but more of an accusing, 'I told you so even though I didn't say it out loud', 'get your shit together' look.

"You're doing it again," Louis mumbled, closing his eyes. "Looking at me like you want to say something."

"I do. But I'm not going to, 'cause I don't judge," Niall said, taking a bite out of his apple. "That's my whole thing."

"I know," Louis said, taking his head off his hand to properly continue the conversation. "But what you want to say, you've already said before."

"Which is why I'm not going to repeat myself." Niall leaned forward, his eyes filled with concern. "But, Louis, three jobs? That's too much, even for you. It's really starting to take its toll, I can tell. I get that you're trying to take care of your family, but you need to start taking care of yourself too."

"I am taking care of myself, mate," Louis defended, only to yawn wide enough for a tennis ball to fit in his mouth. It completely demolished his previous statement.

"You call this--" Niall motioned to him "--taking care of yourself?"

Louis scoffed, unable to bring anything into his words, because Niall was right. He just simply was, and Louis hated that. He hated that Niall was right. There was that word again: hate. So much hate, and so little love. He was one depressing teenager.

"Louis, no offensive, but you look like a drug-addicted insomniac."

"Some taken," Louis replied, running a hand through his hair. He looked over Niall's shoulder, breaking eye-contact with his friend to stop the conversation, only unintentionally meet bright, green eyes. It was Harry, staring at him. Louis found it odd but didn't look away. They kept eye contact for a few seconds, which continuously got tenser and tenser. Louis raised an eyebrow, refusing to look away first. Harry just smirked at him, and Louis couldn't help but mouth a 'Fuck off' to him, which caused the brunet to grin. What in the ever living--

"What are you doing?" Niall said, interrupting the odd moment Louis and Harry were having and causing Louis to snap his head to his friend. 

"What?"

"You're mouthing a 'fuck off' to somebody," Niall pointed out, frowning with a confused intention and already starting to turn around in his seat.

"I don't know what you're on about," Louis quickly said, causing Niall to stop moving and open his mouth to say something. He was cut short when the bell rung, indicating classes were about to start again. Louis got up quickly, thanking whoever it was that made the bell ring right at that moment. "Wish me luck. I've got an English test that I only studied two hours for."

"Saved by the bell, Tomlinson," Niall said with a raised eyebrow. "Good luck."

Louis shot him a grin, then turning around and walking to his next bad grade to be. 

All he could hope now was that he wasn't going to pass out during the test. He really couldn't have that right now.


	2. Chapter II.

Louis was sat at his desk, staring at his English test with empty eyes. He was too tired to properly think, to even attempt at making the test, unable to come up with good answers. The fact that Liam was sitting at the desk beside him didn't really help either: not because he was so incredibly intimidating or something, but because he was constantly glancing over at Louis. Constantly. With concerned eyes, as well. Like Louis was an ill child that needed supervising. For the record, he wasn't. Liam didn't seem to be aware.

It was then that he felt a nudge at his foot, and he slowly looked at Liam, who had nudged his foot with his own. 'You okay?' mimed Liam. Louis shrugged, not understanding why it was any of Liam's business, or why he even cared.

'Tired' Louis mimed back, returning to his test. There was no way in hell he could make it, but he could at least pretend.

Now, Louis hadn't meant to fall asleep. He just did. He fell asleep almost seconds after his short-lived 'conversation' with Liam. All he knew was that he jolted awake by the sound of the bell and that he instantly panicked when he realised he had slept through the entire test. So when he looked down and saw that his entire test was filled out, he was more than a little surprised. It was in a messy handwriting, the type that seemed to have attempted to create a different handwriting. He whipped his head around to find whoever it was that seemed to have made his test, only for his eyes to land on Liam handing in his own test at the front of the class. Liam looked at him for a second, sending him a smile and a wink, and then he left the classroom. 

Louis didn't know how to feel as he handed in his test, feeling a bit dizzy and straight-up guilty. Why in the world had Liam made his test for him? He had met the guy exactly once, which was yesterday, and that been a conversation of less than a minute, a conversation in which he had admitted (sort of) to not even knowing Liam's name. It just didn't make any sense to him. Either Liam was a very nice guy, or he was trying to get Louis to owe him something. The second one seemed the most likely, considering... well, everything. They weren't friends, were as opposite of each other as they could possibly be, Louis had been nothing but rude... it was just odd. No, not odd, it was straight-up disconcerting. 

So, when Louis got out of his last class of the day and saw Liam with his friend group (which seemed to be two other guys), he practically froze on the spot. He was still hesitant on whether he should address the whole test thing, but then Liam laughed. Not just any laugh, but a genuine, happy one, like he was carefree, like his mind wasn't occupied with the fact that he made a test for a complete stranger. And that laugh, that careless fucking laugh, made Louis snap, and he marched over in a straight line towards Liam. He grabbed his shoulder, turning Liam around roughly. The latter looked at him in shock, and Louis vaguely registered how the other two guys Liam was talking to watched with similar emotions. 

"Why'd you do it?" Louis asked, dropping his hand again with an angry expression that he was sure could actually kill somebody if he put his mind to it.

"What?" Liam asked, straightening his back in an attempt to recompose himself. It helped, unfortunately, Louis thought.

"My test? Why'd you make my test for me?" Louis elaborated, wondering if Liam really was that daft or if he was just pretending not to know what Louis was talking about. "Did you do it 'cause you want me to owe you or somethin'? Or what, do you pity me? 'Cause I don't need your fuckin' pity!"

"What? No, no, Louis, I just--" Liam leaned closer, lowering his voice considerably. "You looked like you could use the help."

Louis then realised that Liam's friends were still standing behind them, listening in on their conversation shamelessly. This caused him to look at them, only to recognise one of them: Harry. This time the boy wasn't wearing a smirk, but more of a concerned look--whether the concern was for Liam or Louis, Louis didn't quite care for. The other guy standing with them was incredibly good looking: dark, nearly black hair, with dark brown eyes and pierced earlobes. He was watching with an evenly concerned look, this one most definitely directed at Liam.

Louis grabbed Liam's upper arm, dragging him out of hearing range of his friends. "Listen, I don't need your help, or your pity, or whatever the hell is driving you to do these favours for me, all right?" He said. Liam gave him an apologetic look.

"Alright, Louis, look. Yesterday, at the diner, I thought it was odd that you were working that late, but I just assumed you'd get off at half past or something," he said. Louis tried to follow where his words were leading to, and slowly started to understand. "But during English, you looked like you were about to pass out. And you did. I thought I was doing you a solid."

Louis wasn't sure what to say. What he did know, was that he was impressed by how quickly Liam had put two and two together. It hadn't happened before, evidently.

"All I'm saying is that I'm not trying to get you to owe me, and I'm not trying to figure you out or something," Liam said. "But I'm starting to understand a few things. The late jobs, the falling asleep in class, and the fact that you look wrecked and... like this all the time (Louis took some offence to that), I'm trying to help, is all. If you don't want that, then I'll leave you alone. But, the least you could do is give me a thank you."

Louis sighed. "Thanks, alright?" He muttered. "I'm serious. Thanks." And then guilt started taking over when he saw the way Liam was looking at him. He looked like a kicked puppy. "I'm sorry, too, Liam. I just... in my defence, I'm not a fan of being treated like a victim. And you were giving me that impression, that you thought I was one."

Liam smiled, trying to ease the tension between them. "It's a shitty apology, but I'll take it," he said, causing Louis to scoff. "My friends and I are going to hang out at the mall. Come with us. Make it a better apology."

"I can't. I got work," Louis said with a small shrug. Liam's eyebrows shot up, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"What--again? Doesn't that diner give you time off?"

"I'm not working at the diner today. I'm working at the library."

"You've got two jobs?" Liam asked in complete, utter disbelief. It was almost funny, in a weird way.

"Three, actually," Louis said. He patted Liam's shoulder as he walked past him, ignoring the shock filled look following him. "I'll see you around, Liam."

And as Louis walked away, his eyes met Harry's, and the whole walk, up until the point where he passed the green-eyed boy, they kept their gaze. They didn't smile, they didn't say anything, but just watched each other with meaningful looks. Louis didn't know what meaning it exactly had, he was pretty sure Harry didn't either, but he liked it. Just a little. Not enough for him to mention it aloud.

And then he started running, because he still had to pick up the twins and he almost bloody forgot because of his conversation with Liam.

 ❈

When Louis got home at five, he found his mum sitting at the dining table going through a bunch of letters. Félicité was sitting on the couch watching the tv, the twins on the floor playing with lego they got from their previous neighbours. 

"Hi, guys," Louis said, throwing his hoodie over the back of the couch. He kissed Félicité's head, ruffled the hair of the twins, and then kissed his mother's cheek.

"Louis," she said with a warm smile. "How was the library?"

"Empty," Louis said, dropping into another chair by the table, a dull ache in his back from stacking books for hours straight. "I feel like if I hadn't shown up, it wouldn't have made a difference."

Jay chuckled, but it faded away when she read the letter she was holding. Louis furrowed his brows, glancing at the envelope the letter was in, and saw that it was from the bank.

"Mum?" He said. "What's it say?"

Jay breathed in deeply through her nose, handing the letter over to him. Louis grabbed it, scanning over the black letters, his anger quickly riling up. The bank was upping their bills by 10 percent. "What the fuck?" He exclaimed. 

"Louis!" Jay quickly said. He remembered his sisters, quickly glancing behind him to find them looking at him with wide eyes.

"You girls didn't hear that. Don't repeat it. It's a bad word," he said. They nodded obediently, focusing on their toys and TV show again. Louis looked at Jay again. "Why in the world are they asking us for so much? When did this happen?"

"I don't know," Jay sighed. "Maybe we're going into a crisis or something. I do know that there's nothing we can do about it."

Louis groaned, rubbing his face as he dropped the letter on the table. "How the he--" he remembered his sisters. "--how are we going to pay this?"

His mum shook her head. "I don't know, honey," she whispered.

"Yeah, when do you know, right?" Louis snapped, getting irritated with that same answer over and over again. What time are you home? I don't know. When are you getting paid? I don't know. How the hell will we be able to afford to live? I don't know. 

"Louis," his mum started, but Louis wasn't having it and jumped up from his seat, making his way to the front door. "Louis, where are you going?"

"Takin' a walk," Louis said. The moment he opened the door he was hit with the cold evening air, instantly realising that he was in a t-shirt, his hoodie still on the couch. He was most likely going to freeze if he went outside in a t-shirt, but Louis didn't have a lot of pride, and the little bit that he had, he wasn't going to demolish by going back inside to get his hoodie. Yes, he was that pathetic. So he stepped outside and slammed the door behind him for added effect and then marched away. 

He walked until he was deep into downtown. By then he was cold to the bone, shivering but still refusing to go home to get his hoodie. Or to warm up. He wanted--needed to be alone for a little while. If that required for him to be cold, then so be it. He then sighed so deeply that he was pretty sure he puffed a part of his soul out, leaning against the wall behind him that belonged to a clothing store. It was closed. And then he got that itch again. 

He needed a cigarette.

Louis wasn't the type to prepare. He prepared for his sisters, his mum, but not himself. It wasn't a conscious choice. It just... was like that. If forgetting his hoodie and constantly being late wasn't a dead giveaway, he wasn't sure what was. But there was one thing he was always prepared for: the itch of a cigarette. He proved himself when he reached into his back pocket of his skinny jeans, taking out a lighter and an opened pack of cigarettes. There were 11 left. He read the text on the plain, green packaging like he always did.  **Quitting will improve your health,** it said. Louis scoffed, taking a cigarette out and then putting the pack in his back pocket again. It'll improve your physical health, sure, but most definitely not your mental health. 

He lit up his cigarette, bringing it to his lips and inhaling deeply. He didn't feel good about smoking. Well, it made him feel good, but it didn't feel good to know that he was hurting his mum and sisters with it. When they first found out he smoked they went ballistic. Jay got so angry she actually kicked him out for the night, screaming about how she lost Mark, and she couldn't lose Louis to lung cancer. It had been an overdramatic ordeal for Louis, but eventually, they had come to terms with it. They didn't accept it, but they tolerated it. That was enough. 

He could feel the smoke filling his lungs, a calm feeling washing over him. The light burn in his throat and lungs felt properly familiar, easing the stress that sometimes felt permanent. 

He stayed like that for a couple minutes, just smoking and thinking about how in the ever living hell he was going to be able to afford to stay in his own house. He kept his gaze on his feet most of the time, occasionally looking up. His eyes were now trained on a piece of chewed gum on the ground. It was why he didn't notice somebody approaching him until they vocally announced themselves.

"Hi there," a rough voice said, a voice that Louis instantly recognised to be Harry. He looked up at the sound, seeing the boy looking at him with a small smile. Louis felt a little annoyed that Harry looked like a bloody [model](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/66/00/c1/6600c163764cd91527d01a020f0aaf1d.jpg), whereas he himself looked like he spent a night on the street. He looked at him for a moment, before sighing, pushing himself off the wall and spreading his arms out.

"Well, let's have it then," he said, causing Harry to frown. "Bring the sneers, the insults, the demeaning laughter... or spit on me, I haven't had that happen to me before."

Harry shook his head, an insulted look on his features. "I'm not here to insult you, or laugh at you, or whatever other things you just said," he muttered, and Louis' heart actually hurt a little when he saw the pained look in his eyes. But he wasn't about to be so nice and bear his heart that had a tiny, tiny bit of regret in it for his words.

"Then why are you here?" Louis asked, his voice considerably softer in tone. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Well, uh..." Harry chuckled sheepishly. "I was eating in the café across the street, with some friends, and I saw you... and I kind of wanted to say hi, I guess."

This was odd. Not the café part, but the part where he wanted to say hi to Louis when he saw him. They weren't friends. They weren't even acquaintances. Louis was under the impression they were closer to disliking each other than being civilized classmates. 

Instead of saying anything about how odd Harry's ideas were, Louis looked over to the café Harry had mentioned, noticing Liam and another guy sitting in a seat by the window. The same guy he had seen a few hours ago at school with Liam and Harry. "I know Liam," Louis acknowleged, immediately realising that it was unnecessary, as Harry had seen him and Liam talk a few hours ago. "Who's the other one?"

"That's Zayn," Harry said, nodding, as though he was confirming his own words. Louis noticed how close the two guys were sitting, and how their hands were intertwined under the table. He remembered how Liam had mentioned being taken after Louis had assumed he wanted a blowjob during his shift last night.

Louis couldn't help but scoff. "No wonder he's called Zayn," he muttered, continuing when Harry raised his brows in questioning. "It rhymes with vain."

Harry threw his head back in laughter. It was genuine laughter, Louis realised. He barely managed to wipe off the fond look on his face when he heard it. He brought his cigarette to his lips with a considerably satisfied smirk at making Harry laugh, and took a drag.

"Are you saying Zayn's vain?" Harry asked with a grin after he calmed down a little.

"Have you seen him? How can somebody who looks like that not be vain?" Louis said, which caused Harry to snicker.

"I suppose," he said, his eyes flickering from Louis' to the cigarette between his lips. Louis looked at him, genuinely looked at him, which caused Harry to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for a few seconds, nothing said between either of them, just pure silence. Louis broke the eye-contact when he shivered, causing Harry to look at him with concern, and because  _of course,_ he had to be nice like that, started taking off his jacket.

"You're probably freezing," Harry muttered. "Why aren't you wearing a jacket or a coat or something?"

"I forgot it in my raging haste," Louis sarcastically said, pushing the hand away that was holding out the jacket to him. "And I'm not cold."

Harry didn't seem satisfied with this and simply draped the jacket over Louis' shoulders. This forced him to stand closer, and he only seemed to realise how close they were when his eyes met Louis. Louis noticed how good Harry smelled, which was a weird thing to notice about somebody, which he realised seconds later, and Harry noticed how much Louis' breath smelled like smoke--yes, they were standing that close. Close enough for Harry to smell Louis' smoke breath, and for Louis to smell Harry's coffee breath.

The curly brunet quickly stepped back after a few moments, clearing his throat. "I--uh, I--" he stammered, whilst Louis tried to be unbothered by it all as he tossed his cigarette bud on the ground and killed it with his shoe. "Do you want to join us? Get like a coffee, or nothing, that's alright too. You can get food too if you want, it's really up to you."

Louis found it endearing, how flustered the other boy was. It was cute, in a completely platonic, observing way. "I wish I could, Harold, but, alas, I can't," he said, not fully registering the nickname he had just used. "I've got a shift soon, so, some other time, yeah?"

It wasn't in his interest to mention that there was never going to be 'another time', simply because Louis didn't have the time nor the interest to hang out with a bunch of rich kids and befriending them. 

"I thought you already worked today?" Harry asked. Louis raised his brows, making it seem like he was assuming that Harry was some stalker. "Liam mentioned it," Harry quickly explained. "The library, right?"

Louis sighed in irritation, not exactly pleased with the idea of Liam blabbering about his life to other people. "I was working in the library this afternoon, yeah, but now I got a shift at a restaurant, so if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to go there now."

He started taking off Harry's jacket, who stopped him by hastily shaking his head. "No, keep it, I'm assuming you still have to walk to work and home. Better to do that with a jacket," he said. "You can give it back to me Monday at school."

Louis shrugged, putting the jacket on properly and the whiff of cologne most definitely didn't soothe him, thank you very much. "Suit yourself, mate," he said, about to walk away.

"So you work two jobs, then?" Harry asked. What a nosy little--

"Three, actually," Louis said, sending him a tight-lipped smile. "See you tomorrow, Harry."

And the shock and respect-filled green eyes did not haunt Louis throughout his entire shift. They didn't. Neither did the sound of Harry's laugh, damn it.

He didn't think about the gorgeous brunet. Not once. Okay, maybe, like, once. 

Or twice.


	3. Chapter III.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of underage drinking, so try to read over that in case you find it uncomfortable.

The next day, on a Saturday morning, Louis was awoken by the ringing of his phone. It was 10 AM when it happened, which was far too early for Louis. Saturdays were his day off--his only day off in the entirety of the week--and so to be awoken before twelve was a death wish to whoever dared to wake him. He wasn't surprised to see that it was Niall calling him. He considered just letting it ring and pretend not to have seen it till Monday, but knew that just answering the call would save him a considerable amount of trouble and pestering for the coming week. So he answered. Unpolitely.

"The hell do you want?"

"Goodmorning to you, Louis," replied a far too cheerful voice.

"Good? And morning?" Louis grumbled. "It's, like, midnight. Nothin' good about it."

"It's ten in the morning."

"I stand by my words."

He heard Niall chuckle in amusement, and it once again completely baffled him how Niall managed to stay so...  _happy_  when he was giving him such a hard time. Then again, the dyed blond always had a cheerful personality.

"I'm going to ignore how you just treated me..." Niall said. "...and ask whether you'd like to go out tonight?"

"Out?" Louis asked, sitting up in his bed to sound a little more awake. He wasn't. He momentarily thought that Niall was asking him on a date, only to remember that Niall was as straight as a pole. As a door. As a--"As in,  _out_ -out? Like, clubbing?"

"If we had any clubs in this godforsaken town, then yes, but I meant like a party."

"A party?"

"Yes. You know, a social gathering of people, typically involving drinking and dancing and--"

"Yes, Niall, I know what a party is, thanks," Louis interrupted, sighing dramatically for added effect. He could practically hear his friend grin on the other side. "How'd you get invited to a party, anyway?"

"Should I be offended? I feel like I should be," Niall replied, causing Louis to roll his eyes, not caring that the other one couldn't see it. "But, to answer your  _demeaning_  question, Liam invited me."

"Liam?" Louis asked, immediately more alert. What in the hell was he thinking, getting so overly involved in Louis' life, going as far as to approach his friends? And then actually inviting them to a party? 

"Yeah. He said you two were friends," Niall casually replied, unaware that Louis was having some sort of an aneurysm. "Aren't you?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean--we're  _acquainted_ ," Louis sputtered, feeling like an idiot for acting the way he was. Why he was acting like this, he didn't really understand. So, Liam was trying to befriend him--and Niall, evidently--there's nothing wrong with that, right? Just... lads being lads. Mates being mates. Blokes being--Louis needed to stop. "I've talked to him on a few occasions."

"Great. See you tonight, then," Niall said, and Louis backpedalled so quick he almost got whiplash, trying to find the exact point where he had agreed to Niall's plans for tonight.

"I--what? I never said yes," he said.

"You said you knew him. That's enough for me. You're going, Tomlinson, no argue."

Louis was most definitely going to argue.

"Now I'm definitely not going," he said.

"So, you were considering it?"

"Well, you asked. Be a bit rude if I didn't."

"Great. I'll pick you up at eight," Niall said, and then the line went dead. Louis stared at his phone in disbelief, letting the situation sink in. Niall just hung up on him. Niall Horan just fucking  _hung up on him_. Who in the hell did that Irish leprechaun prick think he was? The audacity. The bloody audacity.

Louis just dropped back on his bed with the dramatic antics of an American movie teenager, letting go of his phone in the progress. Now, it wasn't the party itself that was the problem. He had been to parties before, and he had actually liked them too, surprisingly enough. But it was the host that bothered him. And the fact that he knew nothing about tonight's plans, except that there was going to be alcohol and dancing involved. Well, dancing... sexually grinding against other people was more accurate. He didn't know why Liam had invited him and Niall, how he'd even figure out that he and Niall were friends, and why he had asked Niall instead of him... And what was the address? What was the dress code? How many people were there going to be? He literally didn't know anything, and it was stressing him the hell out, even though he still had about ten hours left.

Niall Horan knew how to properly ruin Louis' morning.

 ❈

Niall Horan knew how to properly ruin Louis' night too, apparently.

When he said he would pick him up at eight, Louis should've known better than to be ready at eight, because Niall showed up an exact half hour later. Louis hadn't put a lot of thought into how he looked, just threw on a depressing t-shirt (it read Love Will Tear Us Apart, come on) and, obviously, black skinny jeans. He was wearing Harry's jacket over it, telling himself that he was wearing it because he was assuming Harry was coming to the party as well and he could give it back. He was not wearing it because it smelled good, thank you very much, and he most certainly wasn't getting addicted to the smell, no he wasn't. He had put quite some time into his hair, which he usually just let it live its own independent life, borrowing Lottie's hairspray shamelessly. Half of it was probably gone and in Louis' hair, admittedly. He actually thought he [looked](https://images-production.global.ssl.fastly.net/uploads/photos/file/11814/louis-tomlinson-hair-2.jpg?auto=compress&crop=top&fit=clip&h=500&q=55&w=698) pretty decent until he got downstairs and his family started their rant, not holding back in the slightest.

"I thought you were going to a party, Louis?" Jay asked. 

"I am, mum."

"Then why haven't you shaved?"

"And you're wearing all black, too," Lottie said. "You never wear colour."

"Are you even wearing cologne? Is that a new jacket?" Mum again. "And straighten your back, boy."

Louis had turned around and had made a beeline for his room. He hadn't come out till he heard the honking of Niall's car, and he waited an extra two minutes for good measure, and to annoy Niall. 

"What took you so long?" the latter asked when he got into the car, sitting down in the passenger's seat.

"You are in no right to ask me that question," Louis replied, putting on his seatbelt in some haste, only then remembering what a dreadful driver Niall was. "Mister 'I'll pick you up at eight but shows up at half past'."

Niall didn't have anything to say to that, much to Louis' satisfaction, and instead commented on how Louis looked. "Is that a new jacket?" he asked, and Louis' anxiety levels increased instantly. Because  _oh shit_ ,  _how was he going to explain this one_.

"I borrowed it," he asked after far too long of a silence. He prayed Niall wouldn't push any further, but it was Niall, _of course_  he was going to push the subject.

"Borrowed? From who?"

"...A friend."

Niall laughed at that. Actually laughed, like it was such a funny thing to say. "Mate, what other friends do you have besides me?" He asked, and Louis felt a little offended but had to admit that he was right. Niall was his only friend, which wasn't as depressing as it sounded, actually. 

"You think you're that good, then?" Louis asked, desperate to change the subject. He faintly registered how they had driven into a far more expensive neighbourhood from their own, with big houses and big gardens and big driveways: everything was bigger, fancier, more expensive.

"I'm a catch, Tomlinson," Niall said, swerving when he went too far into the opposite lane and flipping another driver off, whilst it was him who was making the mistake.

"A catch that nobody will ever chase," Louis instantly replied, the sarcastic response rolling off his tongue as though he had years of practice. He had.

Instead of answering, Niall parked his car in front of a, how surprising, big house. As in,  _big._ Unnecessarily big. Louis hated it already, though he wasn't sure whether it was because he was jealous or because it just looked too imposing and not very inviting. The drunk-ish teenagers and loud, booming music weren't exactly inviting either, but alas, the two of them got out of the car. Niall locked it quickly, putting the keys into his pockets (Louis found it surprising that the keys fitted in a pocket that tight), and confidently sauntered up to the entrance of the house.

This was the moment where Louis felt his confidence started faltering, because the more he looked around, the more he realised how he didn't belong there. He saw schoolmates of his in designer clothes, whereas he walked around in simple clothing he bought at an 80-percent-off sale. Then there was the part where they were all talking and greeting each other, and Louis only knew Niall: well, he knew Liam, but if he'd seen him in public he'd ignored him, because that was just the type of person Louis was. 

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, catching Niall's eyes which were filled with some sort of concern. He must've noticed Louis' shift of mood, and once again, Louis couldn't thank the heavens enough that he was blessed with such a good friend. "You alright?" asked Niall. Louis nodded, plastering on a smile. He may be a dick, but he wasn't going to ruin the night for his best friend, who, he could tell, was childishly excited for the party.

"I'm fine, Niall, really," he said. "Let's go inside and get somethin' to drink, yeah?"

Niall looked at him for a second longer, before realising that Louis wasn't going to say anything about his mood shift, and then grinned, slapping his shoulder. "Now that is a plan I can get behind," he said, pulling Louis inside through the open front door. "I'm going to get so hammered I'm not going to be able to remember my name."

Louis didn't say anything, though most definitely mentally judged Niall for his decision. He himself wasn't going to drink much. He still needed to go home, and preferred doing that by car than walking. If Niall was the one who was getting drunk, Louis had no choice but to be the sober one for the night to drive them home. He'd let Niall crash at his place.

"If that's the case, I'd prefer it if you gave me your car keys," he told him. Niall nodded, taking the keys out of his pocket with some trouble and handing them over. Louis put the keys into the pocket of his-- Harry's jacket.

Whilst doing so, he made a promise to himself to keep an eye on Niall for not only his sake, but also for his own, so that he wouldn't spend the entire night alone in a corner sipping an alcoholic drink.

Precisely two seconds later after making that promise to himself, he lost Niall in the crowd. Louis didn't panic. There was no reason to. He was just surrounded by drunk strangers in a small space, completely sober and very much aware of the sweaty bodies pressed up against him.

"Fancy seeing you here," he then heard a voice say into his ear. It was a voice slowly becoming familiar to him. It was low and warm, and it was Harry's. He turned around with a smile, giving Harry a quick glance over. He [looked](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CheQyUmW0AUljDU.jpg) good. Really good. And seemed to have shaved. Louis felt a little ignorant for not shaving.

"Can't say the same," he wittily replied. Harry smirked at his reply, his eyes flickering to the jacket Louis was wearing--his jacket. When his eyes met Louis' again, he could see smugness in them, pure, utter smugness. Imagine Louis' surprise when Harry didn't make a comment about him wearing it.

"I wasn't sure whether you'd come," he said. It took Louis a moment to regroup, wondering why he hadn't said anything about Louis wearing his jacket.

"You knew I was coming, then?" He asked in surprise.

"Liam told me he told Niall to invite you," Harry answered. Louis smelled alcohol on his breath. He wasn't drunk but was most definitely tipsy. "But I wasn't sure."

He looked at Harry for a moment, nodding slowly. "How did Liam know Niall was my onl-- my friend?" He asked, quickly saving himself.

"You'd have to ask Liam," Harry answered. Louis didn't know what to say in response, and instead just looked around the room in search of alcohol. He needed to get loose, like, right now.

"D'you want something to drink?" Harry asked him, noticing his searching eyes. Louis looked at him, giving him a smile.

"Only one. I've got to drive," he said, and Harry actually smiled so brightly it almost warmed his heart. Almost. He grabbed Louis' wrist, dragging him through the crowd and towards the kitchen. Louis tried to ignore the warm feeling of Harry's hand around his wrist. His hands were big, he noticed. It gave Louis some rather unsavoury mental images.

The kitchen was less crowded, though there were still quite some people scattered throughout the room. Nobody paid mind to the two, too engrossed in their own conversations, as much as those were possible over the music.

"What'd'you want?" Harry asked him, his words stringing together in a tipsy manner. Louis gave a small shrug. 

"Nothing too strong, I've got to--"

"To drive, yeah, I heard you the first time," Harry interrupted with a grin, grabbing a red cup that had, what Louis assumed, beer in it, and handed it over to him. Louis took it with a small, thankful smile, raising his brows when Harry didn't grab something to drink for himself.

"Aren't you gettin' somethin'?" asked Louis.

"Doin' shots later," Harry answered, as though that answer on its own explained it. "Don't want to get too drunk and embarrass m'self." Oh. That explained it enough.

"Right," Louis said, sipping his beer, suddenly at a loss for words as he realised how odd the situation he was in was. He found it... awkward, in a sense. He was standing in a kitchen with Harry whom he didn't know and didn't have any interest in knowing, in the middle of a party of somebody who he didn't particularly like but who tried to be friends with him. "So..." he started, because he hated himself, apparently.

"That's my jacket, innit?" Harry asked before Louis could continue.

Ah. There it was.

"It is," he choked out. 

"Why are you wearing it?"

"I--I, uh--" Louis stammered, and then recomposed himself because he was Louis Tomlinson, and Louis Tomlinson did not get flustered in front of a rich, drunk, ridiculously good-looking teenage boy. He downed his cup of beer in one go, refusing to pull a disgusted face even though the beer was lukewarm. "I put it on in case I'd see you here so I could give it back."

"Then why haven't you yet?" Harry asked. "Given it back, I mean." Louis had the temptation to walk away because he knew that Harry knew he had him cornered and could take the piss without any trouble.

"Fine, then," Louis said, beginning to shrug off the jacket. He stopped when Harry put a hand on his arm, stepping closer to him. A little too close.

"Keep it on," he said. "You look good in it."

Louis didn't blush. He didn't.

"I--uh... thanks," he muttered. Harry only smiled brightly.

"Are you blushing? You are!" he said, lifting Louis' chin and forcing him to look at him. He studied Louis' face closely, seemingly entranced with his blush.

"You're a bit close, Harry," Louis mumbled, feeling uncomfortable standing so close to him. Harry's eyes flickered to his and then stayed there, his smile slowly disappearing and his expression turning more concentrated. Louis wanted to push him away, but then he looked into Harry's eyes, really looked, and thought  _fuck it_ ,  _might as well make use of the situation._

So he studied Harry's eyes. They were so, so green. So bright. There was a dark green ring outlining his iris, specks of different shades of green and even amber scattered throughout his light iris. Louis himself was more of a lover of blue eyes, but these, these were phenomenal. Harry's pupils were bigger than usual, too.

"You've got beautiful eyes, Louis," Harry muttered. This time, Louis blushed.

"You're not doin' so bad yourself," he replied in a hushed tone, not understanding why he was so flustered by Harry and... just everything.

Now he was in this position, he might as well admit that Harry smelled good: of cologne and sweat and alcohol and fabric softener. It was fucking intoxicating, from a completely objective point of view. 

Harry's hand moved from his chin to his cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over his cheekbone. Louis could feel his breath on his face. It smelled of alcohol, causing him to realise that a sober Harry would never do this and that it was wrong. Before he could pull away, a voice interrupted their... moment?

"Harry, you got to see this, mate!" Liam yelled, stumbling into the kitchen, quite clearly drunk. "This bloke's foot is--oh."

Louis whipped around in surprise, aware that Harry didn't even move or flinch or fucking react. 

"Louis!" Liam exclaimed happily, then getting a knowing look. "And Harry... you two...  _oh_."

"No, _no,_ it's nothing like that," Louis hastily said. Harry only snickered where he was standing behind him, which Louis ignored. "I just--I had a lash in my eye. Harry helped me find it. Which is why he was so close. So... yeah." Louis hated himself. He absolutely hated himself. The fact that Harry was still snickering wasn’t exactly helping either.

"Right," Liam said, quite obviously not believing a word. "So, anyway, this bloke got his foot stuck and you'll never guess where."

"What, where?" Harry exclaimed, brushing past Louis and following Liam out of the kitchen. He seemed to have forgotten about Louis entirely, and the latter didn't know how to feel about it.

Louis sighed, leaning against the counter and realising that it was going to be a long, long night.


	4. Chapter IV,

The promise Louis had made to himself about not drinking too much in order to drive home wasn't kept. He had tried to stay sober but gave up when he remembered how good alcohol made him feel. Almost like you're dreaming. Like you're not inside your own head, but hanging above yourself. You're aware of what's going on around you and what you're doing and saying, but you just don't really care about the consequences. It didn't sound fun, but it was one of the best sensations Louis could imagine.

After an hour of aimlessly wandering around through the party, he was invited by people he didn't know to join them in beer pong. He wasn't going to admit that it had made him a little happy and appreciated to be invited by complete, utter strangers. He knew it didn't mean as much to them, but that was alright. His team had won by one cup. A few minutes later, he joined in taking shots when Harry and Liam had practically forced him to. Add a few random beers here and there, and you have the perfectly hammered Louis. He wasn't off his face, but he was properly drunk.

He had stumbled into a bathroom, though more on accident than actual intention. Liam's house was far too big for Louis not to explore and get a little lost. There were a toilet and a bathtub that seemed to be able to fit five people in it, which seemed unnecessary, because who in the hell was taking a bath with four other people at the same time. There was also a shower, which seemed to be able to fit five people in there too. Louis approached the sink, grabbing a glass and drinking three-and-a-half glasses of water. He couldn't get the fourth down entirely, his stomach protesting against the sudden amount of water. He was trying to sober himself up a little, watering down the alcohol.

He needed to pee as well, but he wasn't going to because once you use the restroom once, you'll need to go every half hour. That was one of the downsides about alcohol. He stumbled back until he hit the wall, and then slowly slid down it. He tipped his head back, closing his eyes for a few moments to let the water take its effect. His legs were completely stretched out in front of him.

He sat like that for a few minutes, listening to the muffled [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_EUdq--qXc), when the door suddenly slammed open and somebody drunkenly stumbled inside. Louis opened his eyes slowly to see Harry, because  _of course_ , gripping the sink and taking heavy breaths. Louis didn't say anything, just watched the curly haired boy. After a few seconds, Harry looked into the mirror, and he noticed Louis sitting on the floor in the reflection. 

"Hi," Louis said, his voice a little raspy. 

"Hi," Harry replied, turning around with a grin. "What're you doing?"

"Resting," Louis said, swallowing nervously. He didn't know why he was nervous. Most likely because he was drunk on a bathroom floor in a stranger's house, Harry staring him down from over at the sink. 

"Good idea," Harry said, and then slid down on the wall opposite of Louis. He slowly stretched his legs out until his feet were just past Louis’. He had long legs. Louis watched him with raised brows. Harry nudged his foot with his own, Louis doing the same thing back, causing the two of them to snort and then laugh.

After they calmed down, Louis asked Harry the same question he had asked, referring to his heavy panting above the sink.

"Calming m'self down," Harry explained. "Thought I was going to throw up." His words were stringing together in a drunken mess.

"Shit," Louis said, not really knowing how to reply properly.

"'s'alright," Harry said with a small shrug. "I didn't, so."

"Yeah, right, yeah."

A silence fell over them, in which they listened to Arctic Monkeys and occasionally stared at each other. Louis actually felt pretty at ease around Harry, but he reminded himself that he was drunk, and when you're drunk, you feel at ease around everybody.

"I love it when the music's like this," Harry suddenly said, causing Louis to look at him with an interested expression.

"Muffled?" He asked, a hint of a challenging tone. It earned him a look.

"No. It's just... when you can only hear the bass and the voices, y'know?" Harry explained. His eyes turned a little distant. "It's so... raw, I guess. Your mind's got to fill in the blanks. You hear the bass and the voice and muffled chords, but it's mostly your own emotional interpretation, I guess."

Louis wanted him to stop saying 'I guess'. It made him sound less convinced of his own words, and that annoyed Louis, because when Harry talked it was so infatuating and forced you to stop whatever you were doing to listen. It was slow, and thoughtful, and carefully chosen words even when he was hammered and it was so incredible to Louis. He could listen to him talk all day long if he got the chance. Even when he couldn't talk properly due to the alcohol in his blood.

It wasn't Louis' intention to say it out loud, about not wanting Harry to talk like that.

"Stop sayin' that," Louis said. Harry frowned at him. "'I guess'. You keep sayin' it. Stop. It's not... it doesn't suit you. You don't guess. I can tell that you don’t."

A small smile appeared on Harry's lips, his gaze landing on his own lap. His hands were fidgeting, one hand playing with the other hand's ring finger like he was turning a ring that wasn't there. Louis understood he was getting shy, a little flustered, even.

"Who's blushin' now?" Louis couldn't help but joke. Harry's head snapped up with a grin, a light blush most definitely on his cheeks.

"Shut up," he said, his grin demolishing the words.

"Make me," Louis instantly replied, because he hated himself, evidently.

The tension in the room rose with eighty percent due to his words, said tension turning rather sexual when Harry's eyes dropped to Louis' lips. Louis suddenly felt warm, really warm, and was itching to get out of Harry's jacket that he, for some reason, was still wearing.

"You're blushing, too," Harry remarked, causing Louis to shake his head.

"No, no, 'm not," he said. "I'm just really hot."

He could've sworn he saw Harry's nostrils flare and his face turn redder than blood as he looked away from him at his words. He took off Harry's jacket, putting it on the floor beside him with a huff. He mindlessly scratched his chin, feeling his own stubble, painfully aware of it again.

”Should’ve shaved,” he muttered. ”Like you. You’re good at it. Not a hair.”

Harry glanced at him, shaking his head gently. ”I don’t shave,” he said. ”Haven’t grown anythin’ yet.”

Louis’ eyebrows shot up, finding it hard to believe. Harry seemed serious about it. ”Lucky lad,” Louis said, not really knowing whether he meant it.

”Not really. Feel like a kid.”

”You are a kid. You’re what, sixteen?”

”Seventeen, thanks.”

”Hm.”

Louis looked at Harry for a few seconds. ”When’s your birthday, then?” He asked.

”February first.”

Louis nodded slowly, then pointing to himself, which was unnecessary regarding his next words.

”Eighteen on December 24th.”

Harry smiled a small smile. ”The day before Christmas?” He asked.

”No, the day before Halloween. Yes, Harold, the day before Christmas,” Louis sarcastically replied. Harry chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. Louis was glad that he didn’t take offence to his sarcasm, like people often did. ”’m an early Christmas present for me mum.”

”Your dad too, right?” Harry asked. 

It caused Louis to avert his eyes to his laps, clenching his jaw. He was quite sure that his dad didn’t consider him an early present. His dad took off years ago without as much as a goodbye, leaving him and his mum in pain and in doubt of the future. He had often wondered if his dad had ever considered him a positive event in his life, something good instead of a nuisance, or some sort of speedbump. It didn’t hurt him, thinking about his dad, it just angered him so much that somebody could just... leave, as easy as that. No regrets, no looking back, not a single care of the damage left behind. It was unfair. 

”Oh,” Harry softly said. ”Sorry.”

Louis wanted to hug him. He didn’t, he wasn’t going to, but had wanted to. It was impressive that Harry noticed his shift in mood, how it was a shit topic for him, and it made him strangely happy that he didn’t push the subject, didn't ask any annoying questions. 

”’s’fine,” Louis said with a small shrug, trying to seem careless. He wasn’t as much as he hoped. ”He left. His loss. Tosser.”

”Do... D’you know where he is?” Harry carefully asked, knowing he was treading thin ice.

Louis shook his head. ”Don’t know. Don’t care. Not my fuckin’ problem.”

He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, trying to meet his, but Louis didn’t budge. He was almost ashamed of it, that his dad left. It felt like shit when your own sad leaves you, and it often seemed like you were the reason as well.

”Mine too, y’know,” Harry suddenly whispered. Now Louis looked up, only to see that it was Harry’s turn to look away. ”Left me, me mum and me sister. No clue where he is either.” He took a shaky breath. ”He broke us. Took us a lot to get where we are now.”

Louis wanted to know more, ask him about what his last statement was about, what it implied. He didn’t ask, because he knew that it wasn’t his business, that it wasn’t his place to ask, that Harry didn’t want to talk about it. Desperate to change the subject, he looked at the boy in front of him in the hope of finding something, and felt a little baffled at the fact that he was still so good-looking even though he was a drunken mess, sitting on a bathroom floor and talking about his horrible excuse of a father. Louis had never been very confident of his own appearance, never considering himself to be attractive in any sort of way, but around Harry, he felt like a fucking trashcan. 

"Are you a model?"

The question had left Louis mouth before he could stop himself. He felt embarrassment bubble up in his chest, but he was Louis Tomlinson, and once he started something, he finished it, no matter how humiliated he felt about it.

"Or do you do modelling jobs?"

Harry finally met his gaze, shaking his head carefully, a small crease between his eyebrows. It seemed Louis had surprised him with the sudden change of subject. "No," he answered. "Why?"

"You're very good-looking," Louis said. "Really good-looking, actually.”

Harry gave him a rather insecure smile. “‘m really not,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck, obviously feeling a bit awkward.

”No, but you see, you are,” Louis said. “You’re, like, honestly the most good-looking person I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot of people. You’re a proper beauty. You should model. They’d hire you in an instance.”

Harry was blushing heavily and hid his face in his hands, shaking his head. “Oh my God, Louis, stop, I’m serious,” he said.

Louis wasn’t going to stop.

”No. Not until you accept my compliments and admit that you’re fucking gorgeous.”

”I would if I was.”

Louis scrambled up, grabbing Harry’s hands and forcing them away from his face. “See? Gorgeous,” Louis muttered, only then remembering that Harry couldn’t see what he was seeing. He pulled him to his feet, forcing him in front of the mirror.

”What’re you doin’, Louis?” Harry asked, looking at him. Louis just grabbed his chin, forcing him to look into the mirror without as much as realising that it wasn’t exactly a normal thing to do. Then again, the entire situation wasn’t exactly normal. They were acting like two drunk girls in a bathroom, complimenting each other—to be fair, this was exactly what they were doing, the only difference being that they were guys, not girls.

”Look at yourself and tell me you’re not good-lookin’.”

“I’m not good-lookin’.”

”No,” Louis quickly said. “Look at your eyes. So green. So pretty.”

”My two front teeth are bigger than the rest,” Harry countered. “Like a rabbit.”

“Yeah, they are, it’s what makes your smile so beautiful, so bright” Louis easily replied. He realised he could keep going all night like this, complimenting Harry who tried to bury said compliments. Louis’ eyes met Harry’s, who still didn’t look convinced, and he could’ve sworn his heart made the tiniest jump. “You’re beautiful. Don’t let people or yourself tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks. I s’pose I’m alright.” Harry smiled shyly, looking at his feet, still with bright red cheeks. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he then muttered.

”Oh no, I’m a trashcan,” Louis waved off, shaking his head as he walked away and grabbed Harry’s jacket off the floor. “I’ve kind of got this rat-like contortion, but’s ‘s’alright, not everybody’s pretty.”

Harry looked at him with disbelief. “How the hell can you say that?” He asked. “You’re— how? I mean, you’re genuinely beautiful. Like, genuinely, genuinely beautiful.”

Louis just smiled politely, not believing a word. “Thank you, Harold,” he said, then scoffing. “Look at us, bein’ all sappy.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s the alcohol, I bet,” he said with a grin. Such a lovely grin. Truly lovely.

”Agreed.”

Louis then grabbed Harry’s wrist without missing a single beat, pulling him out of the bathroom in a confident stride. 

”Where are we going?” Harry asked curiously, following obediently as he let himself be pulled along.

”Downstairs,” Louis answered simply.

”What are going to do downstairs?”

Louis smirked, glancing at Harry and seeing the excited glint in his green eyes that was copied in his own.

“We’re goin’ to live while we’re young.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s taking some time for Harry to ‘start spending money’, but it’ll ‘officially’ start in the next chapter. I just wanted to build up certain relationships and establish relationships clearly for a smoother storyline :)


	5. Chapter V

Louis was seventeen. He would turn eighteen the day before Christmas, which was only two months away. Then he would be the legal age, the one to buy alcohol for the teenagers waiting outside the supermarket. Even though he wasn’t the legal age yet, his mum was alright with him drinking alcohol, as long as he didn’t overdo it.

The thing was, was that Louis had most definitely overdone it if the pounding headache he felt was anything to go by when he woke up.

He awoke slowly, groaning as soon as he felt his headache, attempting to open his eyes. He shut them almost immediately after his attempt when the sun assaulted his eyes mercilessly. The longer he laid there, the clearer it became to him that he had no clue where it was that he was laying. It didn’t feel like a bed. It wasn’t exactly soft. 

Then he realised it was moving up and down gently, and snoring. This prompted Louis to lift his head and open his eyes, ignoring the bright sun and finding out on what the hell he was sleeping on.

Why he wasn’t surprised to see it was Harry that he was sleeping on top of was probably because of the drowsiness. His head was on his chest, one hand on his shoulder, their legs entangled. ”Jesus,” Louis muttered, moving to sit up a bit more. It was then that he noticed they were on the floor, and that Liam and Zayn were in similar positions beside them, Liam on top of the latter. Niall was on one of the couches, his arm hanging off the side lazily. He was drooling. Louis rubbed his eyes, not fully fathoming that he was in the same position with Harry as the couple beside them was. They were cuddling. It helped a little when he saw that Harry didn’t have his arm around Louis, just limply under him, still fast asleep. 

Louis sat up straight, leaning against the couch they were laying next to, Making share he wasn’t leaning against Niall’s arm, groaning yet again. He felt around for his phone, eternally thankful to his drunk self when he found it in his back pocket and checked the time. Eight AM. Eight in the bloody morning.

He sat in silence for a few moments, getting bored quickly when the others didn’t wake up.

”Lads,” he said, his voice raspy, hoarse. Nobody moved. ”Lads!”

A chorus of groans erupted at his loud voice, amongst which Louis’ was too, not expecting himself to have such a loud voice in the state he was in. 

”Mornin’,” Harry mumbled sleepily. Louis was a little entranced at how incredible Harry’s morning voice sounded. Rough, even lower than usual, sleepy—

”Mornin’,” Liam returned, leaning up on his elbows and smiling down at Zayn, who was returning the loving look. 

”More like midnight,” Niall muttered from the couch, pushing his face into the cushions. Louis let out a raspy laugh, flinching when it hurt both his throat and ears.

It was quiet for a few seconds. 

”Does anyone remember anythin’?” Zayn then asked. It was the first time Louis had heard him talk. Now that he thought about it, he realised he and Zayn were never properly introduced to each other. Or, maybe they were, because to answer his question honestly, Louis couldn’t remember much.

”Not really,” he muttered. 

”Me neither,” Liam agreed, shaking his head as he proceeded to sit up straighter.

”Nope,” said Harry.

”I can’t think right now,” came Niall’s muffled voice. ”Too early. Too big ’a hangover.”

The others chuckled, shaking their heads. Louis, to his horror, realised how he felt strangely at ease around them, like they’d been friends for years. It freaked him out. He wasn’t supposed to be friends with them, not at all. He was also supposed to be home, but that was something to deal with later.

”D’any of you fancy some breakfast?” Harry asked, leaning up on both his elbows. Louis had to resist the urge to reach over and comb through his curls considering they were messy and tangled, and most definitely not because they looked soft and were practically inviting Louis to give in to the temptation. 

”I don’t think me kitchen's usable,” Liam said, running a hand through his messy hair. 

”I was more thinking about going someplace,” Harry countered, looking around. ”I’m starved.”

”Yeah, alright, I can eat,” Louis said, nodding slowly as to make sure his headache didn’t get any worse. ”Can’t stay too long, though. ’Ve got work at ten.”

The others just nodded in understanding, not truly responding to Louis's words. He was glad about that. It seemed like they were already used to the fact that Louis worked a lot (how he didn’t know) and didn’t question it anymore. It was a lot nicer than the usual ’What?! Again?!’.

“What place were you thinking?” Liam asked, standing up and stretching his arms out.

“That diner near the supermarket. It’s got good breakfast,” Harry said, copying Liam’s moves and stretching his arms out above his head, exposing a small line of his stomach. Louis glanced at it automatically, like any other person would (obviously), and noticed the black ink of tattoos. He couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be, but he had to seriously resist the urge to lift Harry’s shirt further to find out.

It was then that Harry’s answer truly sank in, and his eyes flickered to Liam’s, who was already looking at him. It was the diner where they had met a few nights ago, where Louis had a shift at ten today.

“You mean The Eatery?” He asked carefully, praying that no, Harry meant another one.

“Yeah, that’s what it’s called.”

Well. So much for his prayer.

“That’s okay, right?” Harry asked, looking at Louis with curious worry when he didn’t reply.

“I—,” he hesitated. “It’s fine, sure.”

“Cool,” Zayn muttered, pulling himself up by grabbing Liam’s hand. “Let’s go, then. Come on, Irish, get up.”

Niall said something into the cushions of the couch, but it was so muffled that nobody could make anything out of it.

“No clue what you just said,” Louis said, climbing up on his feet. “But I’m sure it’s not important.” The others snickered at his words.

He suddenly felt a nudge on his leg, and when he looked down, Harry was holding up his hand. “Pull me up, will you?” He said.

“I don’t think I heard a ‘please’ in there, Harold,” Louis said, but grabbed his hand nonetheless, pulling him up to his feet.  
Harry grinned at him when he stepped a little too close, Louis’ face practically against Harry’s chest.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping back to give Louis some space back again.

His heartbeat had not quickened. It hadn’t.

It was then that he heard a thud beside him, and when he looked down he found Niall on the floor on his back, groaning dramatically.

“I fell,” he whined, stating the obvious, and rubbing the back of his head as he sat up.

“Cheers,” Louis sarcastically replied, as the others chuckled in amusement.

“Let’s go,” Liam said as Niall slowly stood up. “We’ll take my car.”

“Speakin’ of cars,” Niall muttered. “Where the hell are my keys?”

Oh. Oh no.

Louis took his car keys at the beginning of the evening, that’s what he remembered vividly. He also remembered putting said keys in Harry’s jacket, which he had been wearing at some point, and it begged the question: where was the jacket? Harry wasn’t wearing it, neither was Louis, neither were any of the others, so where in the hell was it?

“They’re in the pocket of Harry’s jacket,” Louis said, only realising how dodgy that sounded after had he said it. Nobody commented on it.

“Okay, that’s great, so where is Harry’s jacket?” Niall asked, watching Louis expectantly.

“Well, it’s— you see—“ Louis stumbled over his own words, before sighing. “Honestly, I haven’t the faintest, mate.”

Niall blinked. Once. Twice. Then exploded.

“What the _fuck_?” He exclaimed, grabbing Louis’s shoulders. “You said you’d watch them! Do you realise how fucked I am? That car cost me a bloody fortune!”

He was shaking Louis violently but the latter didn’t do much to stop it. It’s not like he liked it. He deserved it, is all.

It was then that Liam jumped in between them, pushing the both of them back and turning to Niall. “Alright, Niall, calm down, yeah?” He said. “We’ll look for your keys, just... calm down, please.”

Niall did as he said, deflating faster than Louis had ever seen him do, and nodded. “Alright, alright,” he said. “Let’s look, then.”

After a half hour of continuous searching throughout the house, they found Harry’s jacket hanging over a chandelier with the keys, thankfully, still in the pockets. Louis was probably more relieved than Niall about it. Whilst searching they had also come across a lot more questionable things like ripped condom packages, empty plastic bags the size of a thumb with a remainder of white powder in it, and something that looked like an inflatable sex doll, which was now entirely deflated. They had also found some random people asleep in odd places, but most of the crowd of last night seemed to have gone home already. All of it had only worsened Louis’ headache, because it had caused him to try and remember as much of last night as he could, only to come up empty and with a worsened headache.

By the time they were all in Liam’s BMW and on their way to the diner he was in an even shittier mood and had never been so appalled by working later than he was right that moment.

His headache didn’t lessen when he saw Tom’s overly expensive car parked on the other side of the street, realising that a confrontation with his manager in front of the others was inevitable. His mood didn’t really get any better either.

Liam parked the car as close to the entrance as possible in order to avoid walking as much as possible, and they got out considerably slow. Once inside the diner, Louis didn’t wait for the others to suggest someplace to sit, and marched over to a booth all the way in the back without as much as a warning, and sat down in the far corner, pushing himself against the wall. Harry sat down beside him, Niall following, and Liam in front of him, Zayn in turn beside him. The seats were originally designed for two people, meaning that Louis, Harry and Niall were squished together, on the brink of being uncomfortable. Louis was just annoyed with the fact that his body leaned into the feeling of Harry’s pressed against him. But that was a normal thing, right? Leaning into another person instinctively was normal. Yeah. It was.

“Nice choice of seating,” Niall commented. “The least light, the better. Suits the hangover.”

The others only shook their head at him. Liam’s phone pinged, prompting him to grab it and unlock it, quickly getting lost in his phone.

“You’re Irish, right? Aren’t they, like, immune to alcohol?” Zayn said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, take the piss, go on, but I reckon I can drink you under the table easily,” Niall replied. “And, in my defence, I drank way too much.”

“You were hammered,” Liam said. When Louis looked at him, he noticed his brows were crinkled.

“How do you know?” Harry asked, playing with a loose thread that just happened to belong to the hem of Louis’ t-shirt. He didn’t slap Harry’s hand away.

“‘Cause of this,” Liam said, holding his phone out to show everyone at the table what he was looking at. It was a video of Niall taking a bunch of shots. It looked like there were 20 glasses if somebody would’ve asked Louis.

“Jesus,” Niall muttered, looking away whilst shaking his head. “I get nauseous just looking at that.”

Louis agreed fully.

“Anythin’ else?” He asked as Liam turned his phone to himself again, scrolling further. His eyebrows shot up at something, something that caused Louis’ curiosity to peak.

“Ah, yeah, actually,” he said, laughing an impressed laugh at whatever it was that he saw. Zayn snorted, copying a similar laugh as he leaned over to watch too.

“Well, show it then, mate,” Louis grumbled, getting impatient. It was one of his lesser traits, which he, admittedly, had a lot of. He got impatient quickly, which was particularly prominent right now.

Liam handed Louis his phone, still snickering. “Might want to watch too, Harry,” he said, causing Harry to lean even closer to Louis, whose heart jumped.

Louis pressed play on the video on Liam’s phone, his jaw dropping and blood running cold when he saw what was on the phone. It was a video of him and Harry dancing. Well, if he could call it that: it was really just the two of them grinding against each other so heavily it should have an eighteen-plus warning on it. It was almost pornographic. Mild porn, to be fair, but still. It was also obvious how hammered they were: their movements were messy and clumsy. Still far too fucking sexual, though.

“Oh my God,” Louis said as Harry ripped the phone out of his hands, watching with wide eyes and a shocked look. Louis’ cheeks were as red as could be, and he refused to meet anyone’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was mortified or angry at himself. Maybe a mixture of both.

“Wow,” Niall dryly commented. “You two’re really into it.”

“Niall. Shut up,” Louis immediately said, leaning forward and glaring at him overhead Harry.

“Well, I mean, he’s right,” Harry said, shooting him an awkward smile. “We look really into it.”

“Do you enjoy digging your own grave? Because that’s what you’re doing right now,” Louis said, his glare disappearing because he just couldn’t get himself to glare at Harry.

“If I was into blokes I would’ve been turned on,” Niall said, somehow having gotten hold of the phone and replaying the 20 second video for the third time in a row.

“From the way you’re hoarding my phone I’d say you’re plenty turned on,” Liam said, causing Zayn to snort. It was then that a waiter approached the table. No, wait, Louis saw wrong: it wasn’t a waiter, it was Tom. He must’ve spotted them coming in and decided that being their waiter was the next correct course of action. It wasn’t.

“Louis! Finally here to try out the food you’re serving?” He exclaimed happily. Louis wanted to punch him so hard that even braces couldn’t save his overly white teeth.

“Tom,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“You two know each other?” Harry asked, his eyes narrowed a little. Louis blamed it on the dark lighting. He didn’t have an explanation for the snappy undertone, though.

“I’m Louis’ boss,” Tom said with a wide grin, not picking up on how unwanted he was by Louis and Harry. “Well, I’m the manager of this place, but that means I’m the boss of him.”

“And ain’t it just superb,” Louis muttered.

Tom just laughed wholeheartedly, thinking Louis was joking. He wasn’t.

Niall replayed the video for the sixth time, and of fucking course, Tom’s gaze landed on it. He whistled at the video, leaning closer.

“You took my advice, Louis! Finally getting some queer action!”

“I’m not queer, for the millionth time,” Louis said. “I’m—“

“Bisexual, I know, but I can tell you prefer lads,” Tom said, waving his hand dismissively. “I mean, if this video is anythin’ to go by.”

“How are the waffles here?” Liam intercepted, able to tell how annoyed Louis was getting, and Louis could kiss him if he wasn’t already dating somebody and actually felt some attraction to him.

“Pretty good, actually!” Tom exclaimed. “We’ve got this new deal, right, and its...”

Louis zoned out when he felt a warm hand on his thigh, his mind immediately going to Harry, and when he glanced down he saw that the hand indeed belonged to him. It wasn’t anything sexual, just his hand on Louis’ thigh. It turned a bit more intimate when he started drawing circles with his thumb. When Louis looked at him, his face was turned to Tom, listening far too attentively to the deal of one plate of waffles and a coffee for half the price, which were a pound less expensive than pancakes with tea.

Louis didn’t stop himself when he leaned more into Harry, physically telling him that he liked what he was doing and that he wanted him to continue. There was no way in hell he was going to verbalize it, though.

The gesture was intimate, a little too much if Louis’ was fully honest, but the thing was, was that it calmed him down. His irritation at his manager and his snappy intentions melted like snow for the sun, and all that was needed was Harry touching him. It didn’t even turn him on, it just made him feel... calm, at ease, good.

It was something he had to seriously think about later.

“I think I’ll have that waffle deal you’re talking about,” Liam said with a polite smile, and if he was annoyed at Tom’s over-abundance of cheeriness, it wasn’t visible in his expression.

“Just a coffee for me,” Zayn said, leaning closer to Liam. “It’s alright if we share, right?”

“That’s why I ordered it,” Liam replied with a small smile. It should disgust Louis how well they knew each other, how lovesick their eyes were when they looked each other, but instead, it just made him feel strangely empty. He envied them, even. It was confusing to feel those things.

“I’ll have that deal too,” Harry said with a genuinely kind smile. It suited his entire demeanour so perfectly. Kindness. It was exactly what Harry was like.

“Yorkshire tea,” Louis said. “And Tom, I swear to God, if you put sugar in it again I will get you fired quicker than you can make a comment about my sexuality.”

Harry started coughing violently, something of a grin hidden behind his hand. The other squeezed Louis’ thigh.

“I’ll have the waffles too,” Niall said, watching Harry curiously. “You alright? Sound like you swallowed a bee.”

“‘M fine,” Harry said, waving it off. “Just choked on me own spit.”

“Tasteful,” Liam replied dryly.

“Thanks. Thought so too.”

Tom just looked at them with a confused look, oblivious to the fact that sarcasm existed (Louis would know), and then shrugged.

“Be right back with your orders,” he said, disappearing again.

Louis felt relieved.

“So, he’s your boss?” Zayn asked, looking at Louis. “Am I wrong to assume that this is where you’ve got your shift in an hour?”

Louis shrugged sheepishly. “You’re not wrong,” he said. “And un-fucking-fortunately, yes, he’s my ‘boss’.”

Another squeeze in his thigh.

“Does it pay well to work here?” Harry asked. He seemed genuinely interested. It surprised Louis: usually, he got that kind of questions because people were being polite.

“I suppose,” Louis said. “I work a lot of extra hours though, so my pay’s always a bit more than usual. It pays better than the library, I can tell you that.”

“I don’t know how you do it, have so many jobs, I mean,” Zayn said. “I can’t even keep one job. I tried once, and almost got beat up by my boss.”

“Because you told him that his wife said the same thing the night before when he told you to ‘be quieter in case the others could hear, and he only said that because you were shouting into your phone,” Liam simply replied.

Zayn shrugged. “‘S’not my fault. He was an arsehole.”

Louis chuckled, shaking his head. It was then that Liam snatched his phone out Niall’s hand who was playing the video for the thirteenth time, which caused Niall to immediately object. A childish argument followed, one which Louis didn’t exactly comprehend.

Harry’s hand was still on his thigh, his thumb drawing small circles, when it suddenly moved to his inner thigh. Louis gasped in surprise, his hand immediately on Harry’s, stopping it from moving any further.

His head snapped to Harry, who was scratching his nose, hiding his self-satisfied grin behind his hand and pretending to listen to the conversation.

“Don’t test me, Harold,” Louis warned under his breath. In a reply, Harry’s hand moved even further down his inner thigh, causing Louis to tense up momentarily.

Fine then. Two could play at that game, but Louis was going to win it.

He moved his foot until it was touching Harry’s ankle, and then slowly started dragging it up his leg. Harry’s breath got stuck in his throat, and he straightened up against the seat, his body visibly tensing. Louis continued dragging his foot up, pretending to listen to the argument still going on between Liam and Niall.

He glanced down after a few slow seconds and saw that Harry’s legs were actually spreading a little and— well, it was just too simple for Louis, really.

All of a sudden there was a plate put in front of Harry, interrupting their... _moment_ , and causing Louis’ foot to retreat to his other and Harry’s hand to his own lap.

Louis couldn’t stop his own grin when he saw how tense Harry still was, his face unnaturally red.

“Here’s your tea, Louis,” Tom said with a grin. “No sugar, I promise. Just a bit of milk.”

“Hm,” Louis hummed in acknowledgement. He waited till the others had their own orders and Tom was gone before tasting his tea. It was actually pretty decent, surprisingly enough.

They started eating silently, the previous argument completely forgotten. The silence didn’t last long.

“So I’m not as hangover as I thought,” Niall said. It was almost funny, how random his words were.

“What makes you think that?” Harry asked.

“I’m eating without throwing up.”

A round of laughter went around the table. Even Louis laughed a little.

He watched how Harry cut off a piece of his waffle, waiting until the right moment and then stole the piece off his fork, putting it in his mouth.

“Hey,” Harry whined with a pout, a fairly childish reaction. “You should’ve ordered if you wanted to eat.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Louis said, stealing a piece of fruit and putting it in his mouth. He was very much aware of how Harry followed his hand and then watched his lips as he chewed.

“Yup, so into it,” Niall suddenly said, interrupting their moment. They were having far too many of those, 'moments' that weren't supposed to moments, that weren't supposed to be between them, _especially_ not them.

“Definitely,” Zayn agreed.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Liam added.

Louis and Harry just looked at them with equally dumb expressions. “What?” Harry added to it, not helping their situation.

The other three just scoffed, shaking their heads and returning to their food.

Louis ought it best not to ask what they were talking about, as he was starting to get a pretty good idea himself.

They kept talking throughout their breakfast about different things, things that weren’t important and just filled the silence. During it all, Louis kept stealing small pieces off Harry’s plate. Gradually, Harry started leaving pieces on purpose, and the both of them pretended not to notice. Eventually, Harry just cut off pieces and handed the fork to Louis, sharing the plate of waffles. The others noticed, Louis could tell, but they didn’t say anything. He was glad about that. It would just call for another awkward moment, which he could not use at all.

At the end of the meal, Harry had stood up, announcing he needed to use the restroom and clumsily climbing over Niall, not waiting for the latter to stand up and give him some room. Louis watched in amusement as the boy went, his long limbs flailing.

He downed the rest of Harry's coffee shamelessly, sighing as he leaned back in his seat. "You want me to call over Tom, ask him to split the bill?" He asked the others at the table.

"No need. Harry's already paying," Liam said, adding a small shrug. Louis' brows furrowed.

"No, he's not, he's using the loo," he countered.

"That's what he always says," Zayn said. "It's his thing."

Louis slowly got more and more confused. "What?" He asked, turning to Liam for help, who rolled his eyes at Zayn.

"Whenever we go out to eat," he explained. "Harry always says he's going to use the restroom. Instead of doing that though, he goes to pay for our meal."

"And you never stop him?" Niall asked, his eyebrows raised.

"There's no use," Liam said. "We paid him back once, made the money over to his bank account. He returned the tripled amount and then made sure we couldn't pay him back. We've kind of left it at that since." He paused for a moment, watching Louis carefully. "Harry's family's rich. Very rich. And he knows that. Just like he knows others don't have it so well. He likes to spend his money in ways that lets him help others. This is kind of... the tip of the iceberg, I guess."

Louis was at a loss for words. He knew that Harry was a good person, kind, but this was a bit unexpected. So, Harry was a do-gooder with his money. It wasn't entirely surprising, but still... how fucking kind and selfless can a person be? He didn't like it, not at all. You weren't supposed to just... pay for people like that. 

It also made Louis feel pitied. The last thing he needed was pity. The very last thing he needed was pity from a bunch of rich kids that have never done a second of labour for anyone, let alone worked for their money. 

"So he treats people like they're charities?" He sarcastically commented, vocalising his own realisation.

"That's one way to look at it," Zayn said, his eyes narrowing the slightest in defence of his friend. "It's also the wrong way. The right way to look at it, is that he wants to help people. Make a positive difference for them. Even when they don't need it, like... us, for example."

"Charity work," Louis stubbornly said.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Liam asked him. "That he wants to help you out a little?"

Louis slowly leaned forward, his gaze turning cold.

"I'm not a fucking charity."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I most defintely let myself go this chapter... whoops. That’s what it’s all about, though, innit?


	6. Chapter VI.

Louis stopped talking to them.

He had stopped talking to Zayn, Liam, and above all, Harry.

Why? Because he was afraid. What had happened at Liam's house and at the diner, all of it with Harry out of all people, had terrified him, because it had happened so quickly, so easily. Time and time again had he reminded himself that he didn't want to get involved with them, and then it had happened so, so quickly. Drinking followed by the drunk conversation with Harry, in which they both had revealed far too much to each other, and then the dancing that he couldn't remember but had seen in the video... followed by waking up on top of Harry, completely cuddled up, and the fucking breakfast where they fed each other and actually joked around and  _felt each other up._ They had practically been groping each other, for fuck's sake, and that was just too much for Louis, he had now realised. 

He was a coward, he knew that. He was running away from people that were trying to be his friends, actually trying to be his friends, and he was a coward for doing that. But he was just so terrified of getting too close to them and for him to end up getting hurt or used one way or another. It had happened to him so many times already, and he just couldn't have it happen again. He was too tired for it. He couldn't count the number of times where he had gotten close to another person, only for them to completely humiliate or hurt him after finding out about his life.

People were selfish, and for once Louis wasn't going to think about anyone else but himself, and stop talking to the three new guys that, for some reason, were attempting to become a daily part of his life.

Not talking to them proved to be a lot more difficult than Louis had originally expected. He started with avoiding them at school, which was easy enough. He just made sure to walk into class at the very last moment to make sure that there weren't any seats left beside Liam and Harry, whom he shared a few classes with. He didn't share any with Zayn--at least, he didn't think so. He never really paid any attention to his classmates, and Zayn didn't seem to talk much, so nobody could really blame for Louis for never noticing the other. 

When it came down to lunch, Louis wasn't really worried about running into either three, considering they always sat with other people, an entirely different friend group from Louis' and Niall's. Or, well, Niall's, he supposed. So, when he walked into the cafeteria on a Monday and scanned the room to locate Niall, the last thing he expected was to find him sitting with the exact three people Louis was so desperately trying to avoid. 

He promptly turned around and left the cafeteria again before anyone from the particular table could spot him. He went straight outside to the courtyard, setting himself down on one of the benches with a deep sigh. He took out his phone, sending Niall a quick text in which he explained that he wasn't joining him for lunch in order to smoke and clear his head a little. It wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth. The real reason, of course, is that he was avoiding Zayn, Liam, and mostly Harry. He actually was going to smoke as well, and could simultaneously use the time to clear his head.

He hadn't really had the time to do so, considering he had to work immediately after breakfast with his friends--no,  _the others_ , not his friends. When he got home the first thing the got was his mum giving him a speech about responsibility and setting an example for his sisters, yelling on and on no matter how many times Louis tried to tell her he was too hungover for such a loud volume. She made him tea and did his bed for him shortly after, telling his sisters to stay out of his room whilst he slept.

His phone buzzed suddenly, pulling Louis out of his own thoughts.

**_yer a fucker_ **

Another buzz.

**_leaving me with the rich lot talking about their cars and shit for a fucking fag??? a shit excuse that is_ **

Niall's vocabulary had always been quite colourful. Through text, he turned into Rembrandt.

 **sorry, try to make it up to you sometime** **  
**and my fags aren't an excuse** **

_**you better** **  
**yer boyfriend keeps asking where ye are****_

**my what?**

**_Harry_ **

Louis turned his phone off after that.

He grabbed his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, taking one out and putting the pack away again. He put the cigarette in his mouth, about to grab his lighter when he got a stern glare from another student. He put up his hands in mock defence, getting up from the bench and crossing the courtyard to get off the school's property. He often forgot how stern the school's policies against smoking were, simply because he didn't smoke often. Cigarettes were expensive, so he tried to last them as long as he could. The cigarettes were now also giving him this euphoric feeling, and a little light headed. They always do when you first start smoking. The more you do, the less that feeling comes and the more it is replaced with a sense of calmness, instead op euphoria. The second one felt much more like an actual addiction.

Louis was enjoying the first feeling too much to turn it into the second one.

He stayed outside until he heard the bell ring. When he got to his French class he pointedly avoided Harry's gaze, sitting down on the other side of the room.

  ❈

Louis put yet another publication of The Great Gatsby back in the bookcase. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and he already felt as though he was about to pass out of exhaustion. He only had ten minutes left of his shift at the library before he could bid his goodbyes to Mildred, the main librarian, and go home to prepare dinner for his sisters. Jay wasn't going to be able to do so: she had her own night shift, starting at half past five. If Louis left on time, maybe he'd catch her at home before she left.

It was, of course, his luck that right as he started putting on his sweater over his shirt, somebody walked in, presumably to return their books. 

"Yeah, we're about to close," Louis said, stepping out of the back room where returned books and other similarities were. "So I ain't--"

He cut himself off when he saw Zayn at the main desk. 

"Louis?" the latter asked in surprise. "You work here?"

Louis gave a small shrug.  "It's not like I just love to hang out here in my free time," he said, approaching the front desk. "You're returning these then, yeah?" he asked, gesturing to the two books Zayn had brought with him, not exactly willing to continue the same conversation he had with everybody about his exceeding amount of jobs.

"Oh, uh, yeah, yeah," Zayn awkwardly said.

"Last name?" Louis asked, clicking on the register on the far-too-old computer. 

"Payne."

Louis entered the name, frowning before he hit enter. "Your name's Zayn Payne?" he asked with an amused smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. He didn't let it take over fully, afraid that he might offend Zayn.

"God no," Zayn said, returning the amused smirk fully. "It's Liam's last name. I'm returning the books for him. He didn't have time."

Because of course, they were that type of couple.

When Louis hit enter, he indeed saw the name  _Liam Payne_ on the screen with two books beside it. He scanned the books in considerably awkward silence, neither he nor Zayn sure of what to say. He didn't think either of them was sure to establish a friendship or not, as they had never truly had a conversation, or were even properly introduced. Louis was just thankful that Liam had returned his books on time, and thus didn't have to ask for the money for a fine.

"Alright, all good," Louis said, handing Zayn the receipt. "Just, uh, next time, let Liam return his own books, yeah? I'm not actually allowed to do this."

"Sure, sure," Zayn said, nodding. They looked at each other for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. "So-uh, it was good to see you, Louis."

"Yeah, yeah, you too," Louis said, nodding awkwardly. "I'll see you at school, then?"

"Yeah, definitely, yeah," Zayn said, sending him a tight-lipped smile.

He turned around, walking to the exit with a slight swagger in his step, almost like a confident strut. Louis watched him, expecting him to leave, only to see him pause in his step and turn around again.

"Do you--Harry said you smoked?" He asked. It caused Louis to frown, his expression turning wary.

"Why?"

Zayn took out a pack of cigarettes. "So do I," he said. "Want to share one? You said you were about to close up anyway, so."

And that was how Louis found himself outside the entrance of the library, smoking a cigarette with a person he'd so desperately been trying to avoid. Well, not  _the_  person, but still one of the three.

After a few minutes of silence, in which Louis debated on saying something, it was Zayn who talked first. It surprised Louis.

"We're not idiots, you know," he said, slowly exhaling a breath of smoke.

"What?" Louis asked, wondering where Zayn could've gotten the idea of Louis finding him an idiot.

"We know you've been avoidin’ us," Zayn continued. "Well, not all of us. You haven't been avoidin' Niall 'cause it's your best mate. But still. Avoidin' me, avoidin' Liam... avoidin' Harry."

He had purposely paused before naming Harry, Louis knew that for certain. He just refused to understand why, because there was a part of him, deep down, that knew exactly why Zayn had paused.

"I'm not avoidin' anybody," Louis weakly defended, aware that Zayn looked right through it.

"Don't even deny it, Louis," He said. "You're avoidin' us 'cause you're scared."

...and wow, okay. That just hit a little too close to home for Louis. How Zayn knew that didn't matter, it was the fact that he was saying it out loud. The fact that he was saying it out loud with such a nonchalant tone of voice made it even worse.

"What the hell are you on about?" Louis said, his tone of voice too quiet to sound as defensive as he had actually intended.

"Like I said, we ain't idiots," Zayn said, giving him an exasperated look. "I definitely ain't one. You're scared of what's happening. That 'happening' is called friendship."

"Piss off."

"See? Scared."

Louis looked at him with the most irritated expression he could possibly muster up. "That is hardly countable," he said. "Besides, you ain't got the proof."

"Proof? What, like you gropin' Harry under the table during breakfast the other day?" Zayn immediately replied, raising his brows. When Louis started coughing, it was only because he inhaled the smoke of his cigarette too deeply, and not because the answer took him by surprise. "It was Niall and Liam who were arguing, not me. I saw all your behaviour. Acting like a proper couple, you two were. That scared you."

Louis sighed deep enough for a part of his soul to escape with it. "How do you even know something like that?" he asked, unable to deny Zayn's claims. He didn't agree with the whole 'couple' part, but the rest was most definitely true, about him trying to avoid them.

"'Cause I got eyes," Zayn said. "You're a distant person. At least, you try to be. And with us suddenly trying to be your friends--'cause we saw that you don't got a lot of those, we thought we could be them--and Harry trying to get close to you and succeeding, that scared you a lot." He paused, taking a slow drag from his cigarette and exhaling the smoke again. "We don't mean any harm, y'know. We really are tryin' to be your friends."

Louis put his own cigarette to his lips, inhaling and exhaling the smoke. He repeated the action. "I used to have friends. Rich folk, like you," he told Zayn, who looked at Louis with interest. "Somehow, I managed to convince them I had money to spend too. When they found out the opposite, they made sure to completely ruin me. Spat on me, even. Absolutely despised me, 'cause I was takin' on three jobs instead of a sport or music lessons or whatever the fuck it is that you lot do in your free time." He took a deep breath, pushing away the anger and hurt that was rising up inside him. "Niall was the only one who never judged me for it. I kind of promised to myself never to let another person close, 'cause I knew it would protect me. Frankly, I don't have the time to maintain friendships either."

"I call bullshit on that," Zayn was quick to reply. "The whole inability of keepin' friendships, I mean. You got Niall, right? That's a friendship. One you're maintaining, too."

Louis didn't reply. Didn't know how to do so properly. Zayn was right in every single way, and to say that that bothered him was a rather generous understatement. 

"Any advice, then, since you're so wise an' all?" Louis asked, sarcasm unfaltering, even when he was cornered in a situation similar to this.

Zayn tossed his cigarette onto the ground, killing it with the heel of his shoe before giving an answer. "Don't fuck it up," he eventually said. "'S'the best I can come up with, really."

"Don't fuck what up, exactly?" Louis asked, copying his actions and killing his own cigarette.

"Everything that's being handed to you right now," Zayn easily replied. He was almost some sort of poet, with him being quiet, yet incredibly smart whenever he spoke. "You know, friendships, love, the whole deal."

"Love?"

Zayn gave him a look, as though Louis was an idiot with the observation skills of a dartboard. It was a little unfair, really. "Don't tell me you don't see the way _he_ behaves around you?" 

"He?" Louis repeated, now starting to feel like a dartboard. 

Zayn rolled his eyes, shaking his head simultaneously. "You're a bloody idiot," he muttered, purposely loud enough for Louis to hear, who frowned childishly.

"I really don't know who you mean, though," he said.

"Yes, you do."

Yes, he did.

"'S'not like I can just pretend I never tried to avoid any of you," Louis weakly said.

"Yes, you can."

Yes, he can.

It was then that the door to the library opened behind them, and Mildred came shuffling out. She was an old lady, who shuffled instead of walked and had a back more hunched than that of Quasimodo of the Notre Dame. She was nice, possessed relentless sarcasm and could shut a person up quicker than a bullet could leave its pistol. Louis absolutely adored her.

"Why aren't you home, Louis?" she asked as she locked the door. "Think of your mother. She must be worried, that woman. Giving her heart rough times, you are."

Absolutely relentless.

"She's at work, Mildred," Louis said, ignoring Zayn's gaze that was filled with amusement. "She's not worried, I can assure you that."

"Still workin' at that diner, is she?" Mildred asked, turning around to face Louis. Her hand that was holding the keys to the library were trembling. All her limbs were trembling. She was simply that old. "Tell her to get a proper job, will you? That diner does nothin' to pay the bills, I can tell you."

"That's why I work here," Louis said, unable to keep his own amused grin off his face. He was used to her commentary to the point that it now amused him, instead of irritated. "And at two other diners."

"Your mother's an idiot for letting you work like that," Mildred, _relentlessly_ , continued. "You're a child, not a slaver. Tell her to get a proper job."

"I will," Louis said. He wouldn't. "You need me to walk you home, Mildred? 'S'not safe so late."

"I can protect meself, love," Mildred said, shakily waving her hand. "Now sod off. And take your friend with you. And take a shower, you'll make me relive World War II with that stench."

 _God_ , Louis adored her.

"I will. Have a good evening, Mildred," he replied with a grin. 

"Yeah, yeah," Mildred said, shuffling away as she continued muttering under her breath. She always did that, talking to herself whenever she was alone. Or wasn't, Louis supposed. She always talked to herself.

When Louis looked at Zayn he was a little amused by the baffled gaze he had. "Properly lady, innit?" Louis said with a grin. He felt happy when Zayn returned the grin, instead of continuously looking baffled.

"If only she was our age," he replied jokingly, and Louis shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head frantically as he groaned.

"God, don't give me any visuals," he said, causing Zayn to bark out a laugh. 

"Ah, that's your type, then?" he joked, and that just made Louis copy his laughter before he could stop himself.

They stayed talking like that for a little longer until Louis had no choice but to go home, as his sisters had to eat, and, well, so did he.  He and Zayn had parted ways, and as Louis made the walk home, he couldn't help but realise that he had made another friend.

Three friends, really, but Louis wasn't quite ready to admit that to himself yet.

He wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself that he was happy about it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that the first part of this chapter was on a Monday, the second part on a Wednesday. Louis didn’t smoke two days in a row, though the times between cigarettes is becoming shorter. Is it obvious I’m trying to built a subtle course of addiction?


	7. Chapter VII.

Louis didn't go to school the next day. It wasn't really for any particular reason, other than that he just really, really needed to sleep. So he did, and slept through the entire day. He didn't have a single regret about it when he woke up on a Friday morning and feeling more rested than he had in a long time.

Even though he had a shift at the Eatery on Thursday evening till twelve pm, he wasn't as annoyed about it as he usually was, considering he had gotten more sleep that whole day than he did the entire week. Throughout his shift, he had made sure to convince himself of a few things. First, he was going to treat Liam, Zayn and Harry as his actual friends, not as though they were trying to take him hostage. Secondly, he was going to tell Niall about the situation he had found himself in with Harry, and with that came the third one hand in hand: he was convincing himself that he had no feelings for Harry. These feelings weren't exactly there yet, but they were growing, and that was concerning. Louis didn't want to fall in love. He wasn't ready for it, nor did he have the time to maintain an actual relationship with anyone. And if he were to actually ever fall for Harry, he would want it to last, because he knew how extraordinary Harry was, how unique. He was the type of person you'd never want to lose once you've found them.

By the end of the night, Louis was quite content with himself. He had managed to convince himself he had no feelings for Harry anymore. He had buried them deeply, stowed them away so that they didn't affect him anymore. He was now completely over the romance aspect of it all, and was fully okay with being friends with Harry. He had no feelings for him anymore, whatsoever.

But when he walked into the cafeteria that Friday and sat down at the table where Niall, Liam, Zayn and Harry were already sitting and Harry gave him the brightest smile he had ever seen on the guy, his heartbeat sped up and his stomach filled with butterflies, and Louis knew that the entire convincing act had been a complete, utter waste of time. He was so fucked. So fucked.

"Louis!" Liam said happily. Far too happy to be to somebody who had been nothing but rude to him the entire time they had known each other. Louis knew he had some serious reconciling to do.

"Lads," Louis said, clearing his throat as he sat down beside Harry, whose gaze never left him. He looked so happy to see Louis, and Louis just had the undeniable urge to touch him, to have some sort of physical contact with him, and he just refused to understand why.

He met Harry's eyes and shot him a sincere smile. "Harold," he greeted. Harry's smile brightened even more, if that was possible. Louis noticed for the first time that he had dimples. The left side was the most prominent. His dimples were pretty, gave him a sweet and charming smile.

Louis didn't miss Niall miming 'Harold?' to the others with a knowing smile, but he ought it best to simply ignore it and pretend to never have seen it in the first place.

"What were you lot talkin' about, then?" Louis asked in an attempt to restart the conversation he had interrupted, whilst made himself a bit more comfortable by leaning back in his chair, his shoulder brushing Harry's. It gave him goosebumps. He ignored it.

"Been thinkin' about gettin' a job," Liam said whilst nodding, as though he had to confirm his own words. "Don't really know where, though."

Oh. Right. That was why Liam had been so thrilled to see him. He wanted to know where he could get a good job, and who else to ask for advice than the guy who had three, right?

"Shit, that came out wrong," Liam then mumbled as though he had read Louis' mind, now shaking his head. Louis decided that he had most likely read his expression, instead of his mind, as the latter would just be a very odd subject to touch."I didn't mean to make it sound like you're only here because I need your job advice."

"'S'alright, really," Louis said, waving it off, though he was appreciative of Liam's considerateness. At least he didn't have the observational skills of a brick wall, like most people. "The library could always use help if you're interested."

"If you can handle an old, cynical lady, then sure," Zayn said with a knowing grin directed at Louis, who returned it. 

"Bloody Mildred," he mumbled, shaking his head and shamelessly grabbing a berry off Harry's tray, who didn't even attempt to stop him.

"Care to fill us in about this 'Mildred' figure?" Niall asked.

"No," Zayn and Louis said simultaneously. They shared surprised looks, which then turned amused. They were far more alike then they had thought. Only time could tell whether that was a good or bad thing.

"Right, then," Niall muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Anyway. You lot heard about this thing the school's doin'?"

"Oh, yeah, something about a talent show, right?" Liam asked.

Niall nodded in confirmation. "And," he said, grabbing his water bottle and taking a sip, dramatically pausing between words. It made Louis cock an eyebrow. "They're givin' away a pretty big price to the winner."

"And when are you goin' to tell us?" Louis asked, getting sick of the dramatic antics of his best friend. "'Cause it sounds like tomorrow, the rate you're goin' at."

"Yeah, yeah, calm down, alright?" Niall said, waving his hand dismissively. "So, the price, right, is a scholarship to the college of your choice. Apparently, this thing is a national contest. If you win at your own school you go through to the national finals, and the winner of that gets the scholarship. It's to encourage teens to apply their talents to real life or some shit like that."

"Shit," Zayn muttered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "That's big."

"That's what I said."

Louis glanced at Harry, who had been quiet during the conversation so far, only to find his eyes already on him. He quickly looked away with a growing blush when Louis caught him, who now was more interested in the curly haired boy than that he was in the talent show. He didn't have any talents anyway, so there really was no reason for him to think about it. 

"Maybe you can enter, Harry?" Liam suddenly suggested, and well, that obviously got Louis' attention. "You've got a pretty good voice."

"You can sing?" Louis asked in surprise, now fully invested in the conversation. Harry just shrugged shyly, his blush deepening.

"I mean, a little, but not--" he started, but was cut off by Liam, who enthusiastically started boasting about Harry's voice to Louis and Niall.

"He's incredible, right. Like, his voice is really low--I mean, obviously, hear him talk--and he puts so much emotion in it as well. And you know, his mum, right, co-owns this record label with his bloke--what's his name, Zayn?"

"Simon Cowell," Zayn said, his tone of voice bored as he messed about with his apple core.

"Yeah, him," Liam said. "So, you know, Harry's got a lot of practice so it makes sense that his voice is so amazing, really, I mean--"

"Liam," Harry interrupted, his voice curt. "Can you stop, please?"

"But I was just--"

"Please," he insisted, his tone a lot sharper than Louis had heard before. When he glanced under the table, he noticed Harry's hand clenched into a fist on his leg, his knuckles already turning white. He didn't realise he was reaching out until he placed his hand on Harry, who snapped his head to him in surprise.

Louis wasn't about to retreat now that he had done what he did, so he pretended like it was nothing out of the ordinary and stole another piece of fruit from Harry. 

"Okay, since Harry isn't going to join, does anyone else here have any talents?" Niall then asked, oblivious to what was happening right in front of him, under his very nose. From the way Zayn was trying to meet Louis' gaze, it was quite obvious that he was very much aware.

The other three started throwing their talents around ("I can hold my breath for over a minute-and-a-half." "I don't think that's what they're looking for, Zayn.") whilst Louis and Harry stayed silent and pretended to listen. It was difficult to concentrate for Louis when Harry unclenched his fist, turned his hand around and their fingers automatically [intertwined](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/70/a2/ea/70a2eab313f69cdc6b097edba2688dab.gif), their hands resting on Harry's thigh as though they had done it a million times before.

Louis was so fucked.

His automatic reaction to seeing Harry so uptight was to calm him down, and apparently, the only logical way to go about calming him down was to hold his hand. It seemed to work, however, because when he glanced at Harry, his shoulders weren't as tense anymore, and he looked a lot more relaxed. 

As the others continued with their ideas, which continuously got worse ("I bet I can do the moonwalk if I practice enough." "Niall, you can't even walk normally, let alone dance."), Louis just couldn't help but let himself feel.

Properly feel.

Feel the butterflies in his stomach and the feeling of Harry's hand in his and the flutter of his heart whenever Harry smiled or laughed. He let himself feel what it was like to draw circles with his thumb over Harry's knuckles, let himself feel the squeeze he got in return and let himself feel Harry's calf pressing against his shin. He let himself feel the rush of excitement he got whenever Harry's name popped into his mind or whenever he saw him.

He let himself feel because, at this point, there really was no point in trying to stop it. He was already too far gone, and it was his own fault entirely. It was easily the best mistake he had ever made. He didn't suppress the feelings anymore, didn't push them away, didn't try to convince himself that they weren't there and that he could rid of them.

He let himself fall for Harry.

 ❈

Louis got an eight on his test. The teacher had actually expressed an overabundance of pride towards him as she handed him the test, and Louis had thanked her with a hint of guilt. It wasn't him who had made the test, after all. 

Nobody noticed the fistbump he and Liam exchanged under their desks.

That was two weeks ago.

In those two weeks, Louis had gotten closer to the others; he, Niall, Liam, Zayn and Harry were now a friend group. He had to get used to it, sitting with them every day and talking to them every day, but he was starting to like it. Although he and Zayn had a lot more in common than he did with Liam, he definitely got along with his new two friends a lot easier than he had ever done with other people. His relationship with Harry was something else entirely, especially now that he had given up on just trying to be friendly. It was no use. Louis realised so after he spent a near full week ignoring Harry and convincing himself that he had no feelings for him, feeling quite satisfied when his heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of the boy, only for all of that work to go up in smoke with a single smile from Harry. Literally. All it took was a smile, and Louis work came crashing down around him. 

He couldn't say he was in love with Harry, definitely not. He wasn't even sure if he genuinely liked him yet, although he was most definitely starting to feel things so much stronger and deeper than friendship. It terrified him, but also excited him all the same. He was ready to fall, because he knew Harry was, too.

He wasn't an idiot. At least, not a big enough one to not see that Harry had feelings for him too. Louis wasn't the main character in some teenage romance movie who's too oblivious to notice the feelings of another person. He saw the fond looks and the lingering glances and noticed the not-so-subtle touches on his shoulders or legs. It was kind of adorable in a way, as it was a typical crush that Harry seemed to have. Louis relished in it, though he'd never admit it out loud.

He had yet to discuss it with Harry, however, and if he was being entirely honest, he wasn't really feeling up to doing so. It was simply too much to worry about, and he was perfectly fine with keeping the conversation locked away for now. He wasn't sure how Harry felt about it, but he was guessing that if he didn't agree, he'd find enough quick enough.

Now, however, his mind was far from Harry, too occupied with trying to find Félicité some shoes. It almost seemed as though her growth spurt had already started at seven years old. Louis had bought her shoes only two months ago, but she already didn't fit them anymore. Not even Lottie was growing that quickly. It cost them quite some money to constantly be buying new shoes, and the problem was that that was the one article of clothing Louis could not buy in a bigger size, because that would just be far too uncomfortable for his little sister. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable whilst trying to give her a normal youth. So, here he was, stressing about in a shoeshop on a Saturday afternoon.

"Alright, Fiz, what about these, then?" Louis asked, holding out a baby pink shoe. "It's your size--Pheebs put that down--and it's quite--last warning Phoebe--pretty don't you think?"

Louis thought it had been a good idea to take the twins out with him to the shopping centre, but was starting to thoroughly regret it. They were having a rebellious type of day, refusing to listen to Louis or anyone else, for that matter. Louis was starting to get sick of it. It earned him constant glares from other people in the shop. He could tell the employees were trying their best to remain polite, but their patience was starting to run thin, just like his.

"No, I don't want pink!" Fizzy exclaimed. "Pink is for girls!"

"You are a girl--Daisy behave!-- aren't you?" Louis said exasperatedly. A mother nearby clicked her tongue in dismay as she passed with her youngest son that was about seven years old, who was perfectly calm and happily sucking on a lollipop. Louis was about to call the woman out, ready to let off some steam, when Félicité continued her tantrum.

"I want those!" She said, pointing to the most expensive pair of shoes for children in the entire room. Her eyes had fallen on them the moment they had walked in, and no matter what Louis offered her, she kept repeating that she wanted those. They were a pair of light blue Air Force Ones, which were 60 pounds and way out of their budget.

Only Félicité wasn't fully aware of the worth of money. She wanted them and was utterly relentless about it.

"I know, Fiz, but we can't afford those," Louis said, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as he put the pink shoe back on the shelve. He opened his eyes again, just in time to see Daisy and Phoebe mess about with a pair of heels that were about ten sizes too big, trying to walk in them unsuccessfully. "Daisy! Phoebe!" Louis exclaimed angrily, and the twins immediately scrambled out of the heels with red cheeks. "Put those back before I skin you two alive," he warned, but didn't quite mean it. The girls listened, though, and put the heels back, albeit a lot less neat than they were before.

"Louis! I want those!" Félicité said, pulling his sleeve and pointing to the blue shoes. "Please!"

"I know, darlin', but we can't afford them, okay?" Louis said, his voice now tired. He hadn't enough sleep to keep up with all the whining.

"I don't care! I want them, I want them, I want them!"

"Félicité, I swear, if--" Louis started, but didn't finish his sentence when his eyes met gorgeously green ones.

Harry.

Harry was here, in the shop, his eyebrows raised in puzzlement but his eyes filled with an amused glint. Out of all people, Louis had to come across the one person he didn't want seeing this type of scene. He really didn't want to scare Harry off, and this was the exact way to do precisely that. 

"Louis, hi," Harry greeted with a bright smile. Louis knew that that particular smile was reserved for only him, as he had only seen it directed to him. It lifted his mood just the slightest.

"Harold," Louis replied, feeling self-conscious about his sisters. "Doing some shopping too, then?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, yeah, just looking around," he said. "You too, I see?"

"Yeah, buying some shoes for this little one," Louis said, putting a hand on Félicité's shoulder.The conversation was a bit awkward, too 'small talk' for the two of them. 

"I am not little!" Félicité was quick to exclaim, stomping her foot on the floor. "And we're getting those pretty ones!" She then brightly added, knowing exactly what she was doing as she pointed to the Air Force Ones. 

"No, we're not," Louis said, trying to smile with as much carefreeness as he could as his grip on Félicité's shoulder tightened just a bit.

"But they're pretty!" Daisy interjected, because  _of course_ , and Phoebe nodded in agreement. 

"They are quite pretty," Harry agreed, and Louis knew he had lost when Fizzy grinned up at him satisfactory and said "See? I told you."

But there was no way he was going to pay for those shoes.

"That's it," he snapped, roughly taking hold of Fizzy's upper arm and then Daisy's, because she was closest, and started dragging them out of the shop, not caring what it looked like to Harry or anyone else. "It was nice seeing you, Harry."

And then Félicité started screaming and Phoebe sat down on the floor and Daisy was starting to cry--and Louis just felt like he  _couldn't fucking breathe_.

"I want my shoes!" Félicité screamed. 

"I said no, Fiz," Louis tiredly said, wanting to yell but too exhausted to do so. A merciless headache was growing fast. "We're going home."

"But my shoes are too small! They hurt my feet!"

"I gave you plenty new to choose from, you can run a marathon in those pained feet for all I care--Phoebe! Get up and let's go!"

Louis didn't know how long he was arguing with Fizzy and the twins for, but it had to be a while, because the next thing he knew, Harry was in front of him, holding out a plastic bag with a shoebox inside.

"There you go," Harry said, handing the bag to a baffled--and finally silent--Félicité. "Félicité, wasn't it?"

Fizzy nodded slowly, wary of the boy in front of her, and well, Louis couldn't blame her.

He could only stare at Harry in shock. The curly-haired boy met his eyes, and he smiled an insecure smile. "Is size 27 okay?" he asked. Fizzy nodded enthusiastically, finally grasping that the shoes were hers to keep and that Harry wasn't a stranger, but a friend--of sorts.

"Fiz, what do we say?" Louis weakly asked her, hinting that she should thank Harry without breaking eye contact with him. Harry didn't look away either.

"Thank you!" Félicité exclaimed, hugging the bag to her chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Of course," Harry said, though he still didn't look away from Louis, who then needed some privacy with Harry, quickly.

"Fiz, why don't you and the twins go play on the playground for a bit, yeah?" He asked, finally breaking eye contact and looking at his sister. "Harry and I'll be nearby on a bench."

"Okay," Félicité obediently said. Louis took the bag from her and watched as she took the twins to the tiny indoor playground in the shopping centre, and then silently started walking over to a bench nearby. Harry followed, his gaze careful and questioning. He had never looked so uncertain before.

Louis collapsed onto the bench with a sigh, setting the bag down. Harry sat down beside him, keeping a respectable distance between them. Louis was annoyed with himself that he wanted to move closer, so that at least some part of their bodies were touching. He didn't know why, but he was craving physical contact with Harry, even though he was supposed to be _angry_ with him right now, not all soft like he actually was.

After far too long of a silence, Louis finally spoke up ."It was sixty pounds," he tiredly said. 

"57, actually," Harry replied in a quiet tone. Louis sent him a look, which was met with a tiny grin. It was still insecure.

"I'll pay you back," he said, looking at the playground again. "...might take a while, but I will."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

There was a beat of silence, the tension even thicker than before.

"If you can pay me back, why didn't you pay for the shoes yourself, then?" Harry asked, looking at Louis. "Could've saved yourself the hassle back there."

Louis spluttered, wanting to say something back about the shoes being too expensive but _of course_ they were expensive because they were bloody Nike's and it wasn't like they're overly expensive to the point where people couldn't afford them and--

Louis deflated, letting his head hang and his shoulders slump. "We ain't got much at home, Haz," he quietly said, very much aware of the nickname he was using. "We can't afford shoes like that. I fucking hate it, but it's the reality. I don't work three jobs for nothing." 

He felt Harry shift closer until they were touching, prompting Louis to instinctively lean into him a little. Harry leaned his head on Louis' shoulder. It only made sense that Louis let his head tip against Harry's as he watched his siblings play around on the playground.

They sat like that for a few minutes in complete silence. At some point Louis' hand had found itself on top of Harry's leg, drawing small circles with his thumb. 

"Come home with me," Louis suddenly said, realising what the words implicated only after he said them out loud. "To have dinner, I mean. My mum's cooking. She's good at it."

Harry didn't answer for a few seconds. "Do you want me to?" He then asked.

"I asked you, didn't I?"

"Could just be being polite."

Yet another beat of silence.

"I do, actually," Louis then answered. "Haven't got any work tonight, anyway. See it, kind of like, me paying you back for the shoes. Just, not with money, but with a homecooked meal."

"Okay," Harry then agreed.

"Okay," Louis said.

"Okay," Harry repeated, chuckling. Louis joined in, shaking his head as much as he could with it still leaning against Harry's head.

It was then that Daisy and Phoebe came running towards them, and Louis and Harry quickly sat up, not quite feeling up for exposing the timid intimacy they were sharing to Louis' youngest sisters. Louis remembered to retract his hand from Harry's thigh just in time.

"Louis, can we go home, please?" Daisy asked, remarkably more polite than she usually was now that there was another person present. "We're bored."

"Sure, Days, of course," Louis said. "You bored too, Pheebs?"

Phoebe only nodded. Louis glanced at Félicité to find her sitting on the swings, watching the others with a thoughtful look. "Come on, then, let's go home," Louis said, standing up and grabbing the plastic bag that the shoes were in. 

Harry stood up too, which earned him surprised glances from the twins. "Are you coming with us?" Phoebe asked with a curious look.

"Yes. If it's alright with you?" Harry said, giving her a warm, kind smile. Louis immediately realised he was good with kids, and if not, he seemed to like them a lot.

"Are you Louis' friend?" Daisy asked, neither she nor Phoebe answering. Harry only nodded this time, still smiling kindly. Louis had to seriously refrain himself from shamelessly staring. "Oh. Okay. I'm Daisy. That's Phoebe."

"I'm Harry," Harry replied, curtsying a little which caused the girls to giggle. Louis' lips twitched upwards in a smile.

He felt relieved when he saw that his sisters were already starting to like Harry. He wanted them to because he liked Harry as well, and he wanted him to become a regular part of his life. That was difficult when his family disliked him, though he ought it difficult for people to dislike Harry.

There was one thing, however, which was what he had to do something about Harry paying for things out of the blue. That was just too much. Paying for dinner when on a date, sure, but buying shoes for a practical stranger? Like he said, just too much.

But he was willing to ignore it for a little longer if it meant keeping Harry around.


	8. Chapter VIII.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the nice comments! It really keeps me going and makes writing all the more fun!

The walk back to the house was quiet between Harry and Louis. They were both still too strained to strike up an appropriate conversation, but it wasn't as though the silence was uncomfortable. They just didn't have anything to say to each other, and even if they did, they didn't have the chance to talk, because Phoebe and Daisy were pretty much hoarding Harry, bombarding him with questions. Félicité had stayed uncharacteristically quiet, only adding a small 'yes' and 'no' whenever Harry asked her anything, because Harry was considerate and included the other sister in the conversation, which made Louis so utterly happy.

"What's your favourite colour?" "Do you like Lilo & Stitch? Who's your favourite character? Mine's Stitch." "Do you have any siblings? I have four." "Do you have any pets?" "What's your favourite food?" "Are you Louis' boyfriend?"

That last one had created a bit of tension. Louis and Harry had glanced at each other with tinged cheeks, and Harry had gently told them 'no'. The girls had brushed over it quickly and had continued their questioning, whereas the two boys needed a moment to recompose. The question shouldn't have created any tension because nothing had happened between them yet, and both Louis and Harry seemed to be aware of that. The fact that the question had the effect that it did only prove that there was something blossoming between them. Louis still wasn't ready to acknowledge, let alone accept it.

The closer they got to the house, the smaller the houses got. The cars got lesser and lesser in value, and the streets were less clean. Once they got the house, Louis had glanced at Harry and Harry had looked back. He could tell that the curly-haired boy was thinking things about the house and the neighbourhood, but he didn't say anything, and Louis was so happy that he didn't. Harry didn't even seem judgmental about it all, and that just made Louis want to grab him and hug him until the sun doused. 

When he opened the front door the twins rushed inside. Félicité had grabbed the bag from Louis' and had followed them, shouting for Jay to 'come look at my pretty shoes that Harry bought me!'. Louis guessed that he had to explain that sentence a bit more thoroughly to his mum. 

As Harry took off his jacket--Louis still didn't have one, even though it was now mid-November and already freezing--Louis warned him for the chattery and noisy ordeal he was about to endure. 

"Lottie is quite outspoken, you know, unashamed about saying and asking shit she shouldn't say or ask," he explained. Harry listened with a tiny and amused smile, nodding every once in a while to show Louis he understood. "Fiz is usually quite outspoken too, but she's been a bit quiet ever since..."  _ever since you bought the shoes_ , the silent air finished for them. "...anyway, I reckon she'll come 'round quick enough. Daisy and Phoebe are, well, you've already met them. My mum's relentless, but the sweetest and kindest woman in the world."

Louis intentionally used the word 'woman' instead of 'person', because he had already met the sweetest and kindest boy in the world. 

"Should I be intimidated?" Harry asked with a smile that looked so entertained and so interested. 

"Yes," Louis promptly answered. "You should. My family's a terrifying bunch."

"Oh, yes, they're positively terrifying from what I've seen so far," Harry said. Louis rolled his eyes, turning around and walking into the part living, part dining room.

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you," he said. Harry followed with a chuckle, looking around the tiny room. A dining table with too many chairs tucked one side of the door, two couches and two armchairs on the other side with a TV that was relatively new, won in the lottery Jay had entered. It was the only thing they had ever won. The kitchen was connected by a doorless entrance. It wasn't very big, nor was it very clean, but it worked just fine in the system known as the Tomlinson Family.

Louis noticed Harry's gaze, and he shuffled nervously as he awaited judgement from the boy. "It's not very big, or rich or anything," Louis said, feeling as though he had to apologise for some reason. "But, you know, it's... home."

"I love it," Harry said with a bright and sincere grin, meeting his eyes. "It's nice."

"Really?" Louis asked in surprise, expecting anything but the reaction he had gotten. He should've known better, because this was Harry, and Harry was kind and sweet and charming and would never insult anybody's living conditions, no matter who they were. 

"Yeah," Harry said, his voice suddenly a little more quiet as he continued looking around. His eyes fell on a bunch of photographs on the wall, something odd flashing in his eyes, gone before Louis could make sense of it. "The bigger the house, the further apart you live from your family. I've always preferred smaller houses because of that."

Before Louis could reply, Jay walked into the room with a bright smile and answered for him. "A man after my own heart," she joked lightly, causing Harry to look at her. He immediately held out his hand as he took the necessary steps towards her, his face warm and polite.

"Harry," he said, shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Tomlinson."

"Please call me Jay, that whole 'miss' thing makes me feel like a grandma," Jay easily replied, giving Harry a once-over. "It's nice for Louis to bring a friend home. He never does that."

And that was just too much information, so Louis cut in before his mum could embarrass him any further. "Harry's staying for dinner. Is that alright?" He quickly asked. Jay smiled smugly at him, knowing what she was doing, and nodded.

"Of course, the more the merrier," she said, then turning to Harry again. "Are you vegetarian? Vegan? A picky eater?"

Harry chuckled politely at her lousy joke. At least, Louis thought it was lousy. "None of those. More of a chef myself, actually,” he said, and Louis was surprised. He didn’t know Harry liked to cook. It made him realise that he needed to make a better effort at trying to get to know Harry.

“That’s wonderful!” Jay exclaimed, and Louis knew that Harry already had her wrapped around his finger. She loved cooking, but unfortunately for her, Louis was terrible at it, and so had never been able to cook with her. She seemed to have found her new best friend when it came to food. "Do you cook often?"

"Not often enough," Harry said, shaking his head. "But I wish I'd do it more often. Love to do it, it's very relaxing and pretty rewarding once you're done."

"I wish Louis was like you on that part," Jay said, glancing at Louis and smiling a little. "He hates cooking. He's not even a little bit good at it."

"Yeah, let's all bash me, why not?" Louis muttered, feeling slighted and awkward for just standing there and listening to his mum and Harry becoming closer than he and Harry were, whilst also being insulted at the same time.

"Aw, Lou, don't worry, we're only joking," Harry said, gently pushing Louis' shoulder, and Louis grinned sheepishly and blushed the tiniest bit because  _'Lou'_. 

Jay noticed, because of course she did, and smiled. She opened her mouth to say something, but cut herself off by sniffing the air and then crinkling her nose, only for her face to fill with horror.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen and leaving Louis and Harry with bewildered expressions. Then they heard a muffled groan coming from the kitchen, and when they walked in, saw Jay rubbing her face tiredly whilst crouched in front of the oven. "It's completely burned! I knew I should've paid better attention!"

Louis instantly felt guilty, even though there wasn't much fault on his part for the chicken that his mum had been preparing all day to be burned. She had been so excited for it and had been up before Louis, already preparing the chicken this morning.

"Louis, honey, could you order pizza?" Jay asked, looking at Louis with an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid dinner tonight won't be homemade."

"That's alright, mum," Louis said in an attempt to make her feel less bad about the situation. "You'll get it right next time."

Harry's eyes were trained on the side of his face, and when he glanced at him, his eyes fell on the fondest look anybody had ever given him. He gave Harry a tiny smile and then had to tear his eyes away as he reached for his cellphone to call the pizza place. He walked out of the room just in time to hear Harry offer help to clean to Jay, who sounded so surprised and happy about it that it actually hurt Louis' heart a little. In the restaurant she worked in, she wasn't treated as nicely, not being offered help whenever something went wrong. His mum deserved so much better than that, and it ached Louis not to be able to provide that for her.

After ordering four pizzas, Harry came walking out of the room with a quiet step. It revealed that he was feeling a bit shy about being in Louis' home, which he understood. They still weren't exactly the closest of friends, so feeling a little uncomfortable in the other's house was only normal.

"Sorry about this," Louis apologised sheepishly, putting his phone away. "I offered you a homecooked meal, and now we're eating take out."

"It's fine, honestly, I don't really care what we eat," Harry sincerely said with a small smile. "Just glad I get to spend time with you."

And Louis turned his head away from that because a blush took over and Louis Tomlinson didn't blush over a simple flirtation, thank you very much. Not even if it came from Harry.

❈

Dinner wasn't very memorable. The entire family had sat down and had eaten the pizza Louis had ordered. Harry had offered to pay for it, and Louis had simply scoffed and shaken his head, pretending like he thought it was a joke, even the both of them knew better. During the dinner, Harry had managed to make every single person at the table fall in love with him (except for Louis. Obviously). But then again, who wouldn't? Harry was utterly charming and had a terrible sense of humour that only added to the charm. His laughter and smile were bright and always sincere, and he was polite and easygoing with everybody, his ability for small talk exceeding that of everybody else's. After dinner, he had offered to help clean the table, but Jay had waved him off and Louis was thankful for that, because in no way was he going to leave his mum alone with Harry. It would give her far too much chance to embarrass him and Harry even further than she was already doing.

Louis had whisked Harry away from his family and had taken him upstairs to his room. Harry struck up a conversation between the two of them as Louis opened the door. "Your family's an interesting bunch," he commented. Louis chuckled, shaking his head.

"I warned you," he said as they walked into his bedroom. He made sure to close the door.

"I don't mean it like that," Harry said, shaking his head as he looked at a figurine Lottie had made in Arts and Crafts class a few years back. "You're tightknit. It's nice. Wish we had that at home."

Louis had to suppress the desire to ask what he meant.

"We're pretty close, yeah," he simply answered, sitting down on the edge of his bed. Harry joined him silently after a few moments. "But, they're my sisters, you know. Of course we're close."

Harry smiled at that. "I like that," he said. "That mentality. It's very... innocent."

"You sound like you've been alive for eighty years," Louis muttered. "Like you're wise enough to think of me as a kid."

Harry shrugged, and Louis immediately regretted his own words that he knew sounded far too harsh.

"Sorry," he weakly said. "That was a little too aggressive."

Harry shrugged again, picking at his nails childishly. Louis didn't say anything else, and neither did Harry. It was silent for a few minutes, in which Louis gradually got more impatient.

Eventually, Harry scoffed, causing Louis to look at him in surprise. "Don't you just hate that?" He asked, meeting Louis' eyes. "Uncomfortable silences?"

Needing a moment to collect himself, Louis blinked, vaguely recognising the words, before shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you seriously quoting Pulp Fiction?" he asked.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Harry asked, a grin slowly growing on his lips. Louis just shook his head again, pushing Harry's shoulder, who let himself fall back on his bed.

"Mia Wallace's right, though," he said, staring up at the ceiling. Louis shamelessly stared at his face. "We always have to talk in order to be comfortable. That's bullshit. We're never silent."

Louis dropped onto his back beside Harry as well, very much aware of their elbows now touching. "What's she say? 'That's when you know you've found somebody special'?" He asked, glancing at Harry, who nodded, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. "When you can just--"

"--shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence," the two of them finished together. 

They glanced at each other, snorting and then bursting out into chuckles. The realisation that followed for Louis was that he felt completely relaxed around Harry. No apprehension, no uncomfortableness, just... fine. Relaxed. Like he was with Niall, maybe even more already.

"Can I ask you something?" Louis asked. Harry nodded. They were looking at the ceiling again. "What did you mean when you said you wished you had the same? About being close with your family?"

Harry didn't answer for a while, and Louis didn't push him to. He hardly even expected him to answer. It actually took him so long, Louis had already accepted the silence as an answer.

"I've got an older sister. Gemma," he slowly said, slower than he usually spoke. "But she's already at uni. Sheffield Hallam University. Something with becoming a teacher, I think. I'm not sure." He paused for a moment. "My mum, she didn't want that for her, still doesn't. Remember when Liam said something about owning a record label? Hm, well, it's true. She owns it with an old college friend. From the moment Gem's and I were born, she wanted us to sign a contract later on when we were eighteen to start up a singing career."

Louis knew what he was going to say next, so he added it. "But your sister didn't want a singing career."

Harry slowly shook his head. "She used to, but not anymore. She said it's all because of mum. Kept pressuring her, me too, sent us to singing lessons and taught us the best artists in the world. By the time she finished school Gemma didn't even like singing anymore, so she took off. Got a scholarship and created a life for herself," he said. "When mum found out about her plans she and Gem's got into a fight. Screamed at each other for pretty much the entire night while I was sitting at the top of the stairs, listening to them. Gemma ran out the door, and she hasn't walked through it since." He took a deep breath, his eyes closing. "I still talk to her every day. Mum refuses to talk to her, so does Gem to her. Gem keeps telling me to get the hell away from mum, to get the career I want. But the thing is, is that I do want a singing career..."

Louis understood. "Just not with your mum."

Harry shook his head, picking at his nails. "I love her. I do. She's just... she wants what's best for us, I get that, I know that, but I just want to live my own life, not constantly be in her periphery you know?" His voice had gotten quieter. "I want to be on my own. Make my own mistakes without my mum there to warn me or catch me. That's what I want. Be a complete idiot on my own."

He turned his head so that he was now looking at Louis, who kept his eyes trained on the ceiling, afraid he'd do something stupid if he met Harry's eyes.

"Does that make any sense? Or does it make me sound selfish?"

Louis released a soft breath, thinking carefully about his next words. "I think it makes sense. Our parents should only be there for a little while to guide you, not your whole life," he said. "It makes sense, it does. Also makes you sound a little selfish, yeah, but we're all selfish. We wouldn't be able to live the lives we want if we weren't."

There was a beat of silence in which Louis could tell Harry wanted to say something but didn't exactly know how.

"When... when are you going to be selfish?" He then carefully asked, afraid that he would insult Louis in some sort of way.

And, well, Louis was expecting a question, but it wasn't that one. When was he going to be selfish? It was an unfair question that he didn't know how to answer.

But Harry wasn't done. "I mean, you're the exact opposite of arrogant, always taking care of your family and stuff," he said, his tone of voice alert, in case he'd gone too far. "You're selfless. You're allowed to be selfish too. Just... when? You can't keep this up forever. It'll take its toll on you eventually."

Louis wanted to answer, he did, but when he turned his head and met Harry's eyes his answer got stuck in his throat, and instead an odd strangled sound escaped that sounded like some sort of sob. His eyes started filling with tears at the sympathetic look Harry was giving him, and the tears were escaping before he could prevent it. The next thing he knew, his face was suddenly pressed into Harry's chest, an arm around his shoulder, and Louis just _let go_. He pathetically sobbed into Harry's chest, his shoulders shaking and breath heaving.

He hadn't cried in a long time, hadn't let go of his emotions in a long time, and instead just kept it bottled up and pushed deep down. And now, being able to let go for a little while and just cry... it felt good. It felt good to let it all out. It made him feel human. Like he wasn't an actual robot, but a person with real feelings and thoughts. He never allowed himself to feel, but tonight, he allowed himself. He was just so, so tired. Tired of always worrying, of always working and never having the time to do the things he wanted to do. He was exhausted from the life he was living, but he just didn't see a way out of it.

Harry and Louis didn't continue their talk that night. Louis didn't answer Harry's question, and Harry didn't push him to. After Louis calmed down again they didn't move from the bed. Eventually, they ended up with Harry's face pushed into Louis' neck with Louis brushing his hand through his curls. They stayed on the bed like that for a long time in complete silence, and it made them realise that they had both found somebody special, because they could shut the fuck up for a minute and sit in silence without feeling uncomfortable.

When Harry went home later that night Louis knew that something had yet again shifted between them. But this time, it was a little deeper. Harry had opened up to Louis, and Louis just the tiniest bit to Harry, and that was okay. It brought them closer. It made Louis fall for Harry a little more.

That was okay too.


	9. Chapter IX.

Today was a Tuesday, which meant that Louis had another shift. He liked this restaurant a lot better than he did The Eatery, which was mostly because this one was called Lord of the Fries. He also liked the owner a lot more, who was also the manager, whose name was Abigail, but who preferred to be called Abby. She was 25, blonde, and she and Louis got along well. She had always had sympathy for his situation at home, which she had somehow figured out, and was never difficult whenever he suddenly had to leave because something had come up at home. She also hadn't gotten angry when she had found him fast asleep in the storage room after he had sat down 'to rest his feet'. Louis had proclaimed her as his favourite employer after that occurrence.

It was also why she was the first person Louis was going to ask for a raise. Now that, for some reason, the bills had gone up, a raise would ensure their ability to still pay them. Now Abby only had to say yes.

So, at the end of his shift, he nervously knocked on the door which led to her tiny office, mentally preparing himself for the conversation he was about to have.

"Come in," Abby's muffled voice said from behind the door. Louis opened it and stepped inside. "Louis! I was about to call you in. I need to talk to you. Sit down, close the door."

Louis did as she said, closing the door and then sitting down on the rickety chair that was placed beside the desk. The desk itself was pushed against the wall, a chair behind it on which Abby was sitting, and then a bookcase the size of the wall filled with folders of all kind. 

"Why'd you want to see me?" Louis asked, forcing himself to get comfortable on the chair that looked and felt like it was about to collapse. He ought it best to ask her why she wanted to see him first before asking her for a raise. "What's up? Somethin' I did?"

Abby chuckled, shaking her head, though it didn't sound sincere. Something was bothering her, Louis could tell. "No, you didn't do anything, which is why doing this is so much shittier than it already was," she said, giving Louis an apologetic and sympathetic look.

"Makin' me nervous, Abby," Louis said, smiling, though feeling at an utter loss as he fidgeted with an invisible ring on his ring finger (a habit he had accidentally started copying from Harry).

"Alright, I just want to start out by saying that you're a great employee," she said, and somehow, Louis already knew where the conversation was going. "Honestly. You're the best out of everyone. But, I--damn, okay, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go."

It took a while for the words to sink in for Louis. He just sat there in silence, staring at Abby, who gradually got more uneasy. "Please say something, Louis," she said with an awkward smile.

"I--uh," Louis stammered. "I just--what the fuck? Why? Like you said, I'm your best employee?"

"I don't really have a choice," Abby said, grabbing Louis' hand with both of hers, smiling apologetically. "The restaurant's closing down. It's messed up, but I literally have to fire every single person who works here. Even old Russ, and he's been the chef here for over 5 years!"

Louis didn't answer, because he just really, really didn't know how.

"I'll be out of a job too, which sucks," Abby said. "But, you'll still get your monthly salary. I'll even write you a letter of recommendation if you want?"

"I-- no, that's alright," Louis said, shaking his head. "So I guess I don't have to come in anymore, then?"

"No, no," Abby said, letting go of his hand again. "No use. Doors officially close this Thursday, so, today was your last day, I suppose."

Louis nodded weakly. "I suppose," he repeated.

"Hey, are you and your mum going to be alright?" Abby then asked, her voice a lot softer. "I know you needed this job."

"Need," Louis corrected. "I need it. Present tense." When he saw Abby's face fall, he quickly grabbed her hand like she had done with him. "But we'll be fine. I only took this job for some extra money anyway. Besides, I know enough places where they're looking for people."

"Really?" Abby asked, looking so relieved and so happy about Louis' words he didn't have the heart to back on his words. "Are you sure you don't want me to write a recommendation?"

"No, that's alright," Louis quickly said. "You've got other things to worry about. Like, finding another job since you don't have another two to fall back on, like me."

"You are the most selfless person I've ever met," Abby said, fondly shaking her head. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

Louis smiled to himself, letting go of her hand and returning to fidget with his ring finger. "Yeah, somebody did once, actually," he mumbled, his mind going to Harry. Specifically, the conversation he had with him a few nights ago.

"Well, whoever beat me to it is right, and obviously knows your real character," Abby said. "God, I feel so terrible about this whole thing."

"It's fine," Louis reassured her again. "Can I ask what happened? You know, why are you closing the restaurant?"

Abby sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Haven't got the money anymore," she said. "I can't pay the bills of both this place and my own house, and since there's a little one on the way..." She rubbed her still flat stomach that was gradually growing. She was pregnant for three months now. She sighed. "Anyway, this place's been dying for the past few months, we've been getting, what, half a customer every night?"

Louis felt bad for her. He could tell she was trying to be sober about it, but the restaurant meant a lot to her. She had put her heart and soul into it for the whole six years it had been alive, and it seemed as though all those efforts had gone to waste.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked. "'Cause, you know, you're about to have a kid?"

"About? Louis, I've still got another six months, love," Abby said, smiling. It looked strained. "I'll be fine. I've got someplace to work already, and my parents can loan me some money if I need it. I'll be fine."

"Alright," Louis said, getting up from his chair. "I got to get home. Make dinner."

"Okay," Abby said, standing up as well and then pulling him into a hug before he could protest. Louis just let it happen. "I'll see you around, love. Try not to get into too much trouble, yeah?"

"Can't make promises I can't keep, Ab," Louis joked, pulling back from the hug and smiling. "I'll see you around."

And with that, he left the tiny office. He took off his waist apron and tossed it onto the floor, not caring for it anymore. He looked around the now empty restaurant. Everyone else had already left, except for two other employees who were still cleaning the place up. Before anyone could ask questions and force him to stay for another second, Louis pushed open the door into the cold night--and into the pouring rain, because this night wasn't bad enough already, evidently. He took a few steps down the road so that he wasn't in front of the restaurant anymore, and then he just stopped in his step and let the rain pour down on him. 

He couldn’t go home. Not like this. Not when he was filled with guilt and just couldn’t bear the thought of telling his mum that they had just lost a big part of their income. 

“Shit,” he whispered to himself, wiling away a stray tear that had somehow managed to escape. 

The next thing he knew he had taken out his phone and was calling Harry, because that was the only person he could see right now without wanting to yell in their face. 

“Hello? Louis?” Harry said after the phone rang twice.

”Hey, Haz, I-“ Louis hesitated, suddenly realising that Harry could be busy and that he just interrupted something in his own selfish haze of calling him. “Are you busy, right now?”

”No, ‘m not,” Harry said. “Why? What’s up?”

”I-uh, I got fired,” Louis said, his voice thick with tears that made him sound so broken and weak that he hated himself for it. “And I don’t know what to do right now. I can’t get myself to go home and I’m so angry and tired and you’re the only person I can actually stand talking to right now and—“

”Louis, calm down,” Harry interrupted. There was some shuffling on the other side. “Where are you right now?”

Louis named the address.

”Okay, I’ll be there in a few, alright?” Harry said. “And get inside so you don’t get completely soaked, you’ll get ill.”

Then the line went dead and Louis put his phone away. He wrapped his arms around himself and didn’t move from his spot. The rain poured down on him mercilessly, soaking him to the very bone but he just couldn’t get himself to care. He probably looked like a drowned cat, but again, he just didn’t care.

After about ten minutes, a car pulled into the street. It parked right in front of Louis, and he felt relieved when Harry jumped out of it and rushed over to him.

”Louis! What are you doing outside?” He exclaimed, stopping in front of Louis who looked up at him with tired eyes. Harry's eyes immediately softened at the sight of Louis, who must've looked like utterly pathetic. "Lou," he then said.

And it was the nickname he used and the tone he used with it that caused Louis to snap, who then let out a sob and started crying. Harry wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into his chest, and Louis did the same, holding onto Harry for dear life and shamelessly bawling his eyes out because he was just so, so done. Done with everything.

"I'm so tired, Haz," he forced out. "I'm so fucking tired."

Harry didn't say anything. He simply held Louis close, hugging him tightly and listening to his cries. It was still pouring, but neither seemed to care about their clothes getting drenched.

"I do everything, for everybody and none of it is ever fucking enough and now I'm fired from the job that paid me the most and there's just no way we can live in our own fucking house now," Louis said. "It's never enough. I'm never enough, for anybody, no matter what I do."

"I'm sorry, Lou," Harry whispered, kissing the top of Louis' head. "I'm so sorry."

Louis just cried. He didn't know what else to do.

"Louis, let's get in the car, okay?" Harry said. "It's warmer in there."

So he pulled Louis towards the car and sat him down on the passenger side. Then he ran around the car and got in on his own side. He didn't start the car. Louis didn't push him to. They were enveloped in silence that was only interrupted by the muffled rain rattling on the windows and the roof.

This went on for a few minutes, until Harry obviously couldn't handle the silence anymore and turned to Louis. "You are enough," he said. It took Louis a moment to remember his own words.

"Am I, though?" He sighed. "I mean, I--"

"Yes," Harry immediately interrupted. "Yes, you are. You're kind and understanding and so selfless it's almost unnatural. You work three jobs, yet still manage to go to school and take care of your sisters and you don't take shit from anyone, no matter who they are. You won't let anyone pay for you, for anything, because you don't want people spending money on you, and you always say that it's because you don't want to be seen as a charity case, but I think it's because you think that there are other people who deserve it more. That's so utterly selfless I can't even put it into words properly. You're enough, more than enough and then a bit more. You're more than anyone could ever deserve. Stop forgetting that. Stop telling yourself otherwise."

Louis could only look at him. He wanted to kiss Harry. He really, really wanted to kiss Harry. But then he averted his gaze in case he'd actually end up doing that. It just really wasn't the time, no matter how badly he wanted it. Harry'd probably push him off anyway, as it was obvious that he was trying to have a conversation here, not a snog.

"Can you take me home?" He asked, a weak attempt at trying to get Harry to change the subject.

"You always do that," Harry said, more to himself than he did to Louis as he leaned back in his seat and shook his head. "Every time I try to compliment you, you brush it off."

"The fuck else am I supposed to do then?" Louis snapped, not in the mood for a scolding. Especially not from somebody who was younger than him. "Bask in it? Start braggin'?"

"Accept it," Harry replied. "Just say 'thanks', and move on."

"Thanks, move on," Louis sarcastically replied. Harry met his eyes with an agitated look that just said 'really?'.

They both snorted at Louis' words, which then turned into soft laughter, both shaking their heads. The tension in the car was promptly lifted. Louis relaxed more in his seat, meeting Harry's eyes as their laughter died down.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Louis started speaking again. "Thank you, Haz," he said. Harry smiled.

"Haz," he repeated softly. "I like that nickname. Call me that more often."

"Okay," Louis said. "If that's what you want."

"It's what I want."

"Okay."

There was a beat of silence.

"I'll take you home," Harry then said, snapping out of the gaze he was giving Louis, about to start the car. Louis stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"No," he said, a little too quickly. Harry looked at him curiously. "I just--not yet, please? I can't go home yet. I'm not ready to face my mum to tell her that... you know..."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I get it. It's fine." He seemed to hesitate for a moment, words obviously stuck on his lips. "Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" He then asked, and if Louis didn't know any better, he'd think that Harry had a hopeful look in his eyes.

"If that's alright with you?" Louis asked.

"It is," Harry quickly reassured him.

"Okay," Louis said.

"Okay."

And then Harry started the car and pulled into the road again.

It was after a few minutes of silent driving that Louis was really starting to get cold. He tried not to shiver, because he knew Harry well enough to know that he was going to hand him his jacket or something like that if he noticed how cold Louis was. But, of course, Louis shivered, and, of course, Harry noticed. Instead of taking off his jacket, however, he reached over to one of the buttons on the dashboard and pressed it. 

"Seat warmer," he explained when he saw Louis staring.

"Fancy," Louis commented, raising his eyebrows as the seat slowly started to warm up under him. "Any other cool gadgets?"

"A few, but nothing really worth explaining," Harry said with a casual shrug.

"You act like this is such a normal thing, seat warmers," Louis said, though he didn't sound accusing. "It really isn't."

Harry just smiled. Louis stared at his dimple. He was starting to get captivated with Harry's dimples. He wasn't really sure why, but he really liked them. 

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Harry asked without even glancing at Louis.

"You've got dimples," he answered, as though that explained everything.

"I do," Harry replied, now glancing at Louis for a moment. He was waiting for him to continue.

"I like them," Louis said. "They suit you. Make you look charming."

"Charming?" Harry asked, suddenly pulling into the driveway of a house. Louis didn't reply, too entranced by the house in front of him. Well, house... [mansion](https://www.glentree.co.uk/property_winnington-road-london-n2-0ty_313.html), really. It was incredibly big, bigger than Liam's house. It was beautiful, it was, but so utterly big that Louis just couldn't understand  _why_ anyone would even be willing to build it. The more he looked at the house, the more he understood what Harry had meant by the bigger the house, the further you live apart from each other.

" _This_ is where you live?" Louis asked, looking at Harry. 

"Yeah," Harry answered nervously.

"It's very..."

"Big? Yeah. I know."

Louis nodded slowly. "I get what you mean," he said, causing Harry to frown in confusion. Louis found himself accidentally thinking he looked adorable with that expression. "About, you know, living further apart from your family."

"Oh. Right," Harry said, smiling. "I didn't think you'd remember that."

"Kind of difficult to remember something that poetic," Louis said. "I mean, it got me all emotional. Really. I wrote three love letters because I was so inspired."

"Hey," Harry said, laughing, as he playfully pushed Louis' shoulder, who pushed right back. "I'll let you know I'm very poetic."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure," Louis said, shaking his head fondly. "Although I'd love to sit in this car and talk all night, I'd like to go inside to warm up a little. Seat warmers only do so much."

"Right, right, yeah," Harry said, nodding. He was about to get out of the car, before stopping in his movements and turning back to Louis. "D'you have any cat allergies?"

Louis shook his head. "No, nothing," he said. "Can't say I'm much of a fan of them, though."

"You'll love Paul," Harry excitedly said as they climbed out of the car. Louis barked out a laugh as they ran towards the door to get out of the rain quickly.

"You named your cat Paul?" He asked. "Like, a human name, Paul?"

"Well, yeah," Harry said, opening the front door and turning to Louis with a sheepish grin. "You know, from the Beatles? Paul McCartney?"

"Is he your idol, then, naming your cat after him and all?"

"No, it's just..." Harry trailed off, scratching the back of his neck and his face abashed. "Paul McCatney, you see."

Louis blinked once, twice, staring at Harry dumbly, before breaking out into chuckles and shaking his head. "Of course you'd name your cat after a pun," he muttered. "Paul McCatney... Jesus. Pretty sure that's got to be, like, blasphemy or something."

Harry threw his head back and let out a loud, honking laugh. It was probably the most exuberant laugh Louis had ever heard, and it was almost sort of shouty-like. Louis loved it.

And then there was the pitter-patter of paws slowly getting louder and louder, and the ugliest [cat](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/74/a2/ae/74a2aedd28cba0e91e274dbd7e2a345c.jpg) Louis had ever seen came trotting around the corner.


	10. Chapter X.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know that Harry's first tattoo was a star, but for the sake of this story and my own lazy ass, we're going to pretend that he got his tattoos in a completely different order.

When Louis said that the cat was ugly, it really proved itself when Harry picked the cat up and held it in front of him. Because Harry was so utterly pretty, the cat--excuse him,  _Paul_ \--only looked worse. It had red fur with a white stomach and was slightly overweight, which only worsened the cat's appearance. Its ears were far too big compared to its head, and it's chin and cheeks were also too big, making it appear like it had been stung by a bee. Louis really didn't know how clear he could be about how ugly the bloody animal was.

"Louis, meet Paul!" Harry said with a wide grin, looking completely enamoured with Paul. And Louis just laughed.

"Bloody hell, Harry, your cat's ugly," he said. He was pretty sure Harry had never looked more offended.

"No, he's not," he said with a pout, turning Paul around and holding him out in front of him. "I mean, he's a little... but despite that he's... you know, and he's..."

Louis only laughed louder at Harry's complete inability at trying to compliment his cat, throwing his head back and clapping his hands together. "Yes, Harold, you're right, how could I not see that," he said.

"Shut up," Harry mumbled, but didn't seem to mean it as he looked at Louis with a small, bashful grin. He then let Paul go again (Louis didn't think he could say that out loud without picturing about Paul McCartney) and then nudged Louis' shoulder. "Come on, let's go put on something dry, yeah?"

Louis just nodded, still chuckling about the cat that was now watching him from where it was sitting on the floor and staring up at him, and then followed Harry through the foyer--a _foyer_ \--and up the stairs. 

They passed a few rooms, consisting out of five bedrooms, three bathrooms, an office and what looked like a small gym, before ending up in a bedroom at the very other side of the house, all the way at the end of a hallway. The bedroom was spacious, obviously, but it was also very... Harry, Louis supposed. It was filled with similar light colours, ranging from white to beige and grey. There was a big kingsize bed with a light brown cover and identical pillows, a checkered throw messily spread out over the foot end of the bed. Under it was a fluffy white rug that reminded Louis of Paul's fur (which still sounded strange). The rest of the room was filled with many different musical instruments and a bookcase filled with books and a closet and a desk and perhaps the most surprising of all, a vanity. It was big, too. There were some makeup and a few nail polishes on it.

Louis pointed to the large object, raising his eyebrows. "What's up with that?" he asked as Harry opened his closet to grab some clean clothes. "Is it for your sisters? Or--or your girlfriend?"

The last question was unnecessary, Louis knew that, but for some reason, he needed assurance that Harry didn't have a girlfriend. Because, if he did, Louis had been seriously misreading his signals.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, following Louis' finger to the vanity. "Oh, that," he said, chuckling a little as he turned back to his closet. "Well, first of all, I don't do girlfriends, and secondly, my sister doesn't live here anymore, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, right," Louis said, walking over to the vanity, only then realising Harry's words. "What did-- what'd you mean by that? You know, not doing girlfriends?"

"Well, I'm gay," Harry answered, not even looking up. "I thought you knew that, 'cause, you know."

 _'Cause, you know_. That part got Louis.  _'Cause_ _, you know_. He knew. Harry was referring to the odd tension between the two of them. The more-than-friends-tension that neither was acknowledging. Well, Harry was now, sort of. But Louis was a coward and pretended like he hadn't caught the implication as he picked up a bottle of red nail polish and studied it closely (way too closely, considering it was a bottle of polish and not a painting).

"I've never seen you wear any," Louis commented, putting it down again. "Polish and makeup, I mean."

"I wear makeup," Harry replied, finally closing the closet and walking over to Louis, holding some clothes. "Just concealer to conceal my acne and stuff, but still."

"Well," Louis said, taking the pair of joggers and the t-shirt as he motioned his head to the vanity. "That's a lot of nail polish you're not wearing."

Harry shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't wear it 'cause it's too much of a bother," he said. "Every time I wear it I get the same questions and comments, y'know. That it's girly, and if I'm doing it to make a statement or for a good cause or whatever."

"So you don't wear it because people are ignorant dickheads?" Louis promptly asked. Harry chuckled, nodding in amusement. 

"I guess so, yeah," he said. He glanced at the clothes in Louis' hands and then at the small puddle of rainwater at his feet that was created by Louis' soaked clothes. "You should probably change. I'm not sure if they'll be your size, though. I'm... a bit taller than you."

And that was annoying because he was right. Harry had a few inches on Louis, and what made it worse was that Louis was older, for God's sake. Only by a year and a few months, but still. It was embarrassing, really, but only a little, because Louis Tomlinson did not get embarrassed by a teenage boy, thank you very much.

"Are you calling me little, Styles?" Louis said, attempting to sound comically intimidating but failing completely when he took a step forward and making himself look even shorter in comparison to the giant in front of him.

"I would never," Harry replied with a grin that proved his sarcasm. "I'm sure you're at least 5 foot 8."

"I'm 5 foot 9," Louis defended, which made Harry cock an eyebrow in both amusement and disbelief. Louis couldn't take it anymore and shook his head. "Where's your bathroom?" He asked, now actually wanting to get changed.

"Right over there," Harry said, pointing to a door and making Louis feel like an idiot because  _obviously_. He just nodded and then abruptly walked towards the door, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door a little too loudly. He froze at the sight of the [bathroom](https://iss.zillowstatic.com/image/contemporary-master-bathroom-with-carrara-marble-and-rain-shower-i_g-ISxb7t7vzddcm81000000000-6cRNR.jpg), momentarily taken aback by it. Then he recomposed himself and caught sight of himself in the mirror, feeling his heart sink as he now saw how absolutely shit he looked. A proper drowned cat, he was. How Harry was able to have looked at him for as long as he had done was a mystery to him.

Louis stripped off his clothes and put Harry's on quickly, as though there was some sort of time limit on getting changed. Much to his dismay, Harry had been right about the size of the clothes, as the white t-shirt was dipping low under his collarbones, and the joggers were hanging low on his hips. But that didn't bother him. No, nothing about the outfit bothered him, because not only did he look like Harry, he  _smelled_ like Harry. His cologne and deodorant were infused in the fibres of the clothes, and Louis guessed that the reason for that was because it was completely washed in.

Louis wasn't opposed to it, really.

He then picked up his clothes off the floor and opened the door to return to Harry's bedroom, only to immediately regret it and also not at all when he saw Harry in nothing but his checkered pyjama bottoms. As in, he wasn't wearing a shirt. So, really, what choice did Louis have but to stop and stare at him--and apparently make a choked off noise when Harry suddenly turned around and froze similarly to Louis.

"Oh," he said, immediately relaxing again and not even looking slightly flustered at the situation as he grabbed a shirt from his bed and put it on (Which was only slightly unfortunate). Louis needed a moment to regroup because  _Harry had tattoos._ Two fern leaves near his v-line (he had a _v-line_ ), a butterfly in the middle of his chest and a word in what seemed to be Hebrew on the upper part of his left shoulder. 

Fuck Harry, honestly. He looked like a bloody rockstar, with his hair in complete disarray and his tattoos and muscles and-- _Jesus_ , Louis was a mess.

"You--uh, you--tattoos," he blabbered out, causing Harry to look at him with the smallest amusement and the most knowing glint. He was very much aware of what his shirtless body did to Louis, and he was also very much aware that Louis did not want to that effect on himself at all.

"Yeah, a few," he said, shrugging casually as though it was so normal to have multiple tattoos at seventeen. "I want more though. These are not nearly enough." He bit his lip as he looked at Louis. "What about you? Do you want any?"

"What? Tattoos?" Louis asked, feeling sheepish and a bit dumb when after saying that because obviously, what the hell else would Harry be talking about? But, being absolutely adorable the way he always was, Harry nodded and smiled carefully. "I don't know. I mean, I've never really had much for them, you know. Maybe someday."

If he looked like Harry then yeah, sure, definitely, ink his entire body if it made him look just as good. A voice inside Louis' head told him he wasn't going to get abs from tattoos, but then again. Louis Tomlinson always had his way of getting the things he wanted.

"I'll show you to the guest room," Harry then said, waiting for Louis to nod in agreement before turning around and walking out of the room. Louis followed him silently. They stopped in front of the door closest to Harry's room, and Louis fell quiet when they stepped inside. It was big, of course, and beautiful, and so far from what Louis imagined a guest room would look like. From what he expected, it would be a simple room with a bed and nothing like the [room](https://t-ec.bstatic.com/images/hotel/max1024x768/814/81493786.jpg) he was now in.

"Is this alright?" Harry asked after Louis' outstretched silence, thinking that it was one of disapproval.

"Alright?" Louis asked, looking at Harry in disbelief. "Have you  _seen_ my room? It's, like, a closet compared to this. This is more than alright."

Harry smiled in relief, and it was bright and beautiful and made Louis' heart skip a beat. "I'm glad," he said, and then it got a little awkward because neither had anything left to say. Louis used that moment to walk over to a radiator, hanging his soaked clothes over it.

After a moment of silence, he came up with a question which he thought was pretty good, if not the best of the night. "What time is it?"

"Uh, it's..." Harry took out his phone from his pyjama bottoms. "Just after half eleven."

"Right. What, uh, what's your first period tomorrow? If you have one, I mean," Louis asked, which was a phenomenal follow-up on his previous question, really. 

"We have history together in first period, remember?" Harry said with a raised eyebrow, looking a bit insulted at the fact that Louis hadn't remembered.

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Slipped me mind for a moment there," he mumbled awkwardly. "Well, we, uh, better be off to bed then, yeah? Early morning and all that."

Harry nodded with equal awkwardness, which was a word Louis really used far too much. "Yeah, yeah," he said, nodding. "I'll, uh-- goodnight, then."

 "Goodnight," Louis returned. Harry didn't leave the room immediately, hesitating between leaving and--well, something else. His eyes flickered around Louis' face, before he nodded and turned around halfway, only to turn around again, take two steps towards Louis, lean down and kiss his cheek, which.

Fuck, honestly.

Louis breath hitched in his throat. Harry lingered for a few moments, before abruptly turning around and marching out of the room, either thoroughly regretting his actions or too cowardly to face the consequences. Either way, Louis' glad he left, because he wasn't really sure if he was able to say anything. Of course, he could stutter out a few incoherent sounds, which he was doing right now, but that was it, really.

So Louis Tomlinson did what Louis Tomlinson does best in stressful and confusing moments like these, and turned off the lights and got under the covers on the bed and attempted to sleep.

 ❈

It was exactly an hour later that Louis gave up on trying to fall asleep. He sat upright in his bed--it wasn't even his, what was he on about--and after a few more seconds, threw off the covers and got out. 

He needed a cigarette.

So he walked over to his clothes that were still hanging over the radiator and grabbed his skinny jeans to reach into the back-pocket, taking out his cigarettes and hoping that by some miracle, they weren't completely soaked through by the rain. And, it seemed that finally, God decided to take Louis' side as Louis then saw that his cigarettes were, in fact, still dry. Louis grabbed his lighter and then walked over to the window, which he opened as he lighted his cigarette. 

He made sure to exhale the smoke out the window, as to make sure he didn't make the entire room smell like it. He didn't think he would make such a good impression on Harry or Harry's mum if the room would smell like--well, like him, really.

So, Louis sat like that, by the window, smoking for at least an hour, highly aware that that was already his third cigarette today, and his seventh this entire week (and it was only just Tuesday). He didn't think his mother would appreciate it much.

Louis felt his blood run cold at the thought of his mum. He hadn't texted her or called her or had given even a single signal of life. She was probably sitting at home, worried sick. Well, worried sick was probably an exaggeration. It wasn't like Louis didn't pull stunts like this rarely--in fact, he stayed away from home for entire nights often. At one point, he didn't have a choice to do so: he was working in a gay strip club, the same one where Niall had walked in on him in the back alley smoking a spliff. He worked there for a few months, until his mum's nagging, Niall's nagging, his own revolt towards the groping and assault in the club and the fact that he passed out nearly once a day due to his own exhaustion. He had actually passed out a few times, during gym class but also once during history class. When the latter happened, Mr Collins had thoroughly interrogated Louis on "What in the hell was going on with him?".

At first, his favourite teacher had thought that Louis was going through some sort of abuse at home. After explaining everything, even the awkward strip club part, Louis had to promise his teacher he was never going back to that place again. His life had gotten a little bit better after that, but not by much. He still worked three jobs, still had a mother and four sisters to take of and was still tired.

Sometimes he wondered, seriously wondered, if he'd survive this. Living like this. Not necessarily because it took such a physical toll, but more of a mental and emotional one. More often than it probably should, the thought of suicide had crossed his mind. Of course, he had never acted on it, but he definitely thought about it too many times. All because it gave him a way out. A way out of feeling all the shit he felt on a daily basis. A way out of his horrifically pre-determined future. But he had found a new way out: Harry. Harry made him forget about it all, if even for just a few minutes at a time.

Something inside of Louis stirred at the thought of Harry asleep just two doors away. He was so close, only meters away from Louis who now wanted to see him again, like a muffled magnetic pull.

Louis sighed deeply, exhaling the last inhale of smoke before pressing the cigarette out on the outside of the windowsill, making sure not to burn a spot into it. He then tossed the cigarette into the small trashcan in the corner off the room. When he looked at the bed again, he couldn't get himself to get in it. His eyes fell on the door and something inside him just snapped at the sight. He walked over to it, opened it and didn't bother to close it when he continued walking to Harry's room. There, he paused, hesitantly reaching out for the doorknob, wondering if what he was doing was weird. It wasn't, right?

Then he slowly opened the door, not yet walking inside. "Harry?" he whispered, not sure if he was expecting a reply. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," Harry replied, appearing wide awake. Without saying anything else, Louis stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He walked over to the bed and crawled over it, feeling around to make sure there wasn't a cat laying on it, until he was laying beside Harry, climbing under the covers silently. Neither said anything for a few moments until Louis heard Harry inhale a bit deeper and felt his gaze on him. Louis kept his own eyes on the ceiling.

"You smell like smoke," he said. Louis felt a tinge of guilt. 

"I did it by the window, the room doesn't smell like it," he quickly assured. Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he shuffled just the tiniest bit closer. Louis now felt a tiny bit more of his body heat, suddenly aching to get closer.

"I don't care about the room," Harry said. "I care about your lungs, though. You should stop."

"Yeah, you're right, I should," Louis simply replied, not up for a scolding about his own smoking habits, let alone make an argument about it at two am. He sighed, feeling a bit dickish for his uninterested reply, knowing that the only reason Harry said what he said was that he cared. "Sorry."

"'S'alright."

After a few quiet minutes in which Louis was very much aware of the fact that Harry was still just as awake as he was. He turned on his side so that he was facing Harry, who turned his head to him in surprise at his sudden movement.

"Is... is this alright?" Louis hesitantly asked. Harry frowned a little, before slowly nodding.

"Of course," he answered with confused eyes.

"No, I mean..." Louis closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. "Is this alright?"

Something flickered in Harry's eyes, revealing he finally understood what Louis was hinting at. He was talking about their developing... situation. 

Is it okay that I'm using your feelings for my own good? Is it okay that I'm going to try this? The whole 'falling in love'-thing? And is it okay that I might end up hurting you because I don't know how to deal with my own emotions?

"Yes," Harry eventually said. "Yes. A hundred percent yes."

Louis let out a silent, relieved breath at Harry's answer. "Then why the fuck are you still laying so far away?" he asked, which was such a lie because they had shuffled closer during the past few minutes and were now laying close enough to feel each other's body heat.

Harry lets out a breathy laugh, immediately moving to lay snuggly against Louis, pushing his face into the crook of Louis' neck. Louis wrapped his arms around him, one leg going between Harry's legs, who wrapped his leg around Louis' waist. They chuckled at each others' eager behaviour, even more so when Harry put one arm around him and clung to the back of his shirt.

They were as close as physically possible, and Louis was pretty sure he had never felt so safe before, so at ease. And all of that was all because of Harry, who he just couldn't lose, not anymore, not after this.

"I want this, I genuinely do," he whispered. "But I don't understand how this works, and I don't understand my own feelings most of the time, so just... give me time, okay?"

Harry nodded, pressing a butterfly kiss to Louis' neck who shivered a little because of it. "All the time in the world if you need," he mumbled. "I can wait."

Something changed after that. It was only the next morning that it really dawned on Louis that had practically been a confession from the both of them, just not with the words 'I like you'. But that was okay.

Louis was okay.


	11. Chapter XI.

"So, I've been thinking," Niall said the next morning, sitting down at the lunch table where the other four were sitting.

It was lunch, and Louis and Harry had been acting closer leading all the way up to lunch than they had... well, ever, really. After a strange morning where Louis woke up spooning Harry and freaked out because he still had to bring his sisters to school only to remember that it was Wednesday and that his mother handled Wednesdays, the two had breakfast together, during which Harry had revealed that his mother was in New York to sign with a new girl band named Fifth Harmony ("Or something like that, I don't know, mum and I don't really talk about that stuff anymore."). 

Throughout the day, Harry and Louis had been unusually close and touchy with each other. It was the same story during lunch, in which Harry and Louis’ hands laid intertwined on Louis’ leg while Harry read a book for his English class, his thumb drawing circles over Louis’ knuckles. Louis was silently eating. Zayn and Liam were throwing coordinated suggesting looks at them, obviously aware of what was going on (which was impressive, as Louis himself wasn't even sure what exactly was going on between him and Harry). 

Two of these events ended when Niall slammed his tray down on the table and sat down with his statement. Harry continued stroking Louis' knuckles but stopped reading. Louis continued eating, but Liam and Zayn focused on Niall.

"God save us all," Louis replied to Niall, grinning when the latter kicked him. Harry pinched his hand in a scold, but he was scratching his nose with his other hand to hide his own amused smile.

"What I was saying," Niall said, raising his tone a little before going back to a regular voice. "Remember when I mentioned that whole..." he waved his hand around. "...talent show?"

The others nodded, Liam making a sound of recognition as he swallowed a sip of his Sprite. "With the scholarship prize, right?"

"Yeah, exactly. Anyway, I was thinking that... we," Niall said, motioning at the others around the table. "As a collective, should enter."

It was quiet for a moment before Louis snorted. "Okay, next big idea, please," he said, reaching for his bottle of water.

"No, listen, I'm serious," Niall said, grabbing the bottle before Louis could and holding it out of reach for him. "I can play the guitar, Louis the piano, pretty sure Harry can sing, I know Liam can and Zayn can..." he hesitated for a moment. "He can just stand around and look pretty, I don't know, don't worry, mate, we'll find you something."

Harry's thumb stopped moving, Louis looking at him in confusion only to catch Harry’s surprised gaze. "You play the piano?"

Louis shrugged. "I used to. We sold our piano about a year ago when we needed money to let the twins go on a school field trip, so," he said, trying to sound casual about it, even though he seriously missed the instrument. It had some good memories to it, Louis teaching his sisters and Christmas's and Easters filled with piano music. "And can I have my water bottle back, please?"

"I can sing too, you know," Zayn mumbled begrudgingly as Niall returned the bottle. Liam smiled, nudging Zayn's shoulder and leaning over to whisper something in his ear. Zayn chuckled at whatever it was that he said.

Louis noticed Harry staring at it with an expression that looked a bit envious and squeezed his hand gently, tempted to kiss it but refraining.

Niall suddenly groaned. "Okay, can you all stop acting so coupley with each other? I'm trying to talk about a serious topic."

Harry cleared his throat with a light blush tainting his cheeks, though didn't let go of Louis' hand. "Right. Sorry Niall," he said.  "What were you saying?"

"That we'd have a serious shot at this," Niall said. "Like, we all have our own personal talents. We could win this college thing." He paused, looking at Louis. "For Lou, maybe."

Louis snapped his head to Niall, sitting up straighter. "The hell?" He said, anger flaring up at Niall's insinuation. "For me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hey, calm down," Niall quickly said, reaching to touch Louis' arm but deciding against it at the last moment. "It's just... I think it would be good for you, right? Considering, that, you know."

"That I'm fucking poor?" Louis said, leaning forward intimidatingly and narrowing his eyes. "Can you stop treating it like it's the fucking c-word?"

"Lou," Harry said gently, carefully squeezing his hand. "Let's not, yeah?"

And Louis listened because it was Harry and he was the one person who had such a good impact on him that he immediately deflated, leaning back in his seat with a soft sigh. "Right," he mumbled. "Sorry, Niall."

"No, no, it's fine, I get it," Niall waved it off with a sympathetic smile. "I know how you feel about it."

Louis saw him glance between him and Harry, looking a bit confused yet assuming all the same. Then something flickered in his eyes, his mouth formed an 'o' and he leaned back, grabbing his untouched food--which was a wonder all on its own--and put a fry in his mouth.

Louis kicked his shin. Niall kicked back.

A simple agreement not to say anything about it until they were alone.

  ❈

_**u shagged harry I fuckin knew it** _

Right. Count on Niall Horan to get straight to the point.

_i didnt asshole_

_**u did somethin** _

_i pet his cat Paul_

**_his cat is named paul?_ **

_yea_

__**like paul mccatney?  
wait dont change the fuckin subject  
i want details and shit**

_bye Niall_

**_im going to bug u till u tell me_ **

Louis didn't reply, instead choosing to put his phone away and focus on Lottie’s homework which he was supposed to help with. 

It was maths, which he wasn’t very good at, but it was easy enough for him to understand. “Alright, so what do we do next, then?” he asked, leaning his head on his balled up fist.

”Uh, 20 kilometres to centimetres,” Lottie said.

”And what are the steps?”

”We have to count the steps and then add zeros?” she said, sounding unsure. Louis hummed, smiling encouragingly. It gave Lottie more confidence and made her smile. “That’s, um, one, two... five zeros!”

”Yeah, there you go, Lots!” Louis said, shaking Lottie’s shoulder, which made his sister beam in prode. “Think you can manage the rest on your own?”

Lottie hummed, which made Louis fill with silent relief. He loved his little sister, but sometimes he needed some alone time. He got off work at 6 pm, and only an hour later he had to help with his sister’s homework, when he’d rather be sleeping, which... speaking of.

He stood up from Lottie desk, walking out of the room and closing the door just far enough to leave a gap to look through (just in case, Louis always said). 

He walked to his own room, kicking the door shut and drop onto his bed, letting a moan of satisfaction and relief escape when he could finally lay down.

Before he could even doze off just a little, his phone dinged, making him take it out of his back pocket and look at whoever had texted him. He was surprised when it turned out to be Zayn.

**_what u doing_ **

Louis chuckled at the message, finding it funny for some reason.

_is this what it's like to get booty called?_

Instead of getting a text back, Zayn called Louis. He picked up.

” _This_ is a booty call,” Zayn said instead of properly greeting Louis, making him bark out a laugh.

”Oh, right, thanks,” Louis said, continuing to chuckle. “I was getting confused.”

Zayn snorted in amusement. “Hilarious. Now listen,” he said. “What are you doing tonight?”

”Like, sleeping,” Louis answered, rolling over so that he was on his back.

”Like, you’re not,” Zayn sarcastically answered, causing Louis to roll his eyes. “I’m coming over, yeah?”

Louis nodded, before remembering that Zayn couldn’t see it. “Sure. D’you know my address?” 

“No. Just send me your location.”

”That’s a song, innit?”

”Fuck if I know.”

After a quick goodbye, they hung up and Louis sent Zayn his address. He then rolled out of bed, quickly walking downstairs to get some food. He had missed dinner by the time he’d gotten home, and his mum wasn’t home anymore to make some. The girls had already eaten.

Looking through the pantry, he came across a half empty cereal box, a bottle of Coke and some cheese. There was more, but those were the only things Louis could eat without having to prepare it. He chose the cereal box and the Coke. Then the doorbell rang, as though it was in a movie, and Louis opened the door to find Zayn behind it.

”You’re quick,” Louis commented as Zayn stepped inside.

”Turns out we only live a couple blocks away from each other,” he said, shrugging. “I live in Summit Street, y’know?”

”Oh,” Louis said. It was a street nearby, where the middle class lived. Louis’ street belonged to lower class, or lower middle. It gave him a jolt of awakening that he really didn’t know much about any of his friends. He didn’t know Zayn’s life, nor Liam’s, even though they were his friends, and had been for a couple weeks now.

Louis started walking up the stairs, Zayn following. “Why did you text me, hy the way?” Louis asked as he opened the door to his bedroom. ”Wouldn’t you rather hang out with someone else?”

”D’you not want me here?” Zayn asked, though it wasn’t an accusing question, but more of a joking one.

”No, that’s not it, ” Louis said, closing the door behind him and sitting down cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Zayn just laid down shamelessly, obviously not feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable about being in Louis’ house for the first time. ”It’s just. Wouldn’t you rather hang out with Liam, since he’s your boyfriend and all?”

Zayn shrugged again. ”He’s working on a Bio project with Harry, so they're busy.” He hesitated for a second. ”And I really needed to get away from home for a second.”

”That’s alright, I get it,” Louis reassured him.

Zayn scoffed. ”Believe me, I don’t think you do,” he said, more to himself than to Louis. Louis didn’t comment on it, assuming that Zayn didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering him.

Instead, he offered him the cereal box. ”Cereal?” he asked with a sheepish grin. Zayn looked at it for a second, before snorting and reaching inside the box, taking out a handful. Louis copied him, and the two ate silently for a few minutes.

Zayn was the one to break it first. ”You know this is really unorthodox?” he said, reaching into the box again. ”Usually people offer, like, crisps or something. And you haven’t even got milk, you only have Coke.”

”We’re out of milk, ” Louis said. ”And you’re still eating, so shut it.”

”Fair enough,” Zayn said, nodding slowly. ”So. You and Harry?”

”What?”

”What do you think?”

”Enlighten me.”

Zayn scoffed, then rearranging his position so that his head was leaning against Louis’ leg, which made Louis feel strangely appreciated, to know that Zayn felt comfortable enough with him to do that. ”You and him are doin’ something, yeah?” he asked. ”Niall and I have a bet. He thinks you’re shagging, I think you’re in the honeymoon phase.”

Louis shook his head. ”Well, you’re both wrong,” he said. ”We’re not fucking. We’re not in a relationship. We’re... I don’t fuckin’ know, trying something? Like, he admitted that he likes me, I admitted I’m still figuring it out. Not dating, but not _not_ dating either, y’know?”

Zayn nodded. ”Cool,” he said, and that was that. Louis liked that. Zayn was a very simple person. He either agreed or disagreed and only gave his opinion when you specifically asked for it, which made him a good person to vent to. It made Louis want to be closer to him, be a closer and better friend. 

After a couple of seconds, Louis spoke up again. “Niall’s idea, huh?” He said, starting up the next topic of conversation.

Zayn nodded, which was difficult with his head resting against Louis’ leg, so he stopped. “I kind of like it,” he admitted.

”Are you serious?” Louis asked, raising his eyebrows. “Do you realise what it means for us? We’d be a boyband, a bleedin’ _boyband_.”

”Yeah, but we’d also win a pretty good price, won’t we?” Zayn countered. “A free scholarship in return for a bit of singing in coordinated outfits? Sounds like a fucking steal.”

Louis shrugged. “If we’d win, sure,” he said. “But how big is that chance? We’d have to win a national contest, like, what the hell, we’d have to be pretty fuckin’ good.”

”You’re right,” Zayn said, and for a second Louis thought he was being serious, before noticing his grin. “We should all enter seperately, increase our chances.”

”Piss off,” Louis muttered, pushing Zayn’s shoulder, who started laughing. 

After he calmed down, he reached over to the Coke bottle and took a long sip without spilling even a little. It was impressive, considering he was still laying down.

”I still think it’s a good idea,” he said after he was done. “For you, y’know. You could use that scholarship.”

Louis scoffed, shaking his head. “Somehow, it always comes back to money,” he mumbled grimly. 

Zayn reached out, patting Louis’ leg in comfort. “You’re alright, mate,” he said. “It’s going to be like this for only the rest of your life, so. No pressure, or anythin’.”

Louis chuckled, though it felt bitter. “Even if we’d win, which would be a giant if, I don’t know if I’d even go to college,” he said. “I’ve still got my sisters, and my jobs. I mean, our main income is literally my jobs.” He hesitated for a moment. ”You know I got fired yesterday?”

Zayn lifted his head, immediately sitting up and turning around. ”Jesus. What the hell happened?” he asked. If it hadn’t been for his concerned tone, Louis would’ve humorously pointed out the use of ’Jesus’ and ’hell’ in the same sentence.

”The diner went bankrupt,” he answered.

”What, the Eatery?”

”No, another one.”

”Shit. I’m sorry, mate,” Zayn said. ”So what’re you going to do?”

”I don’t know, ” Louis admitted, as he really didn’t know what to do. He should probably look for another job, but he really didn’t want to, as he finally had a little bit of free time, something he hardly ever had. ”I’ll have to tell my mum, that first. Then... I guess I’ll just have to look for another job somewhere. Maybe the grocery store?”

Zayn exhaled sharply, laying down again, his head against Louis’ leg. ”Don’t know how you do it,” he said, blindly reaching for the cereal box.

”Take not having a choice and add a bunch of siblings that you want to give a normal childhood,” Louis answered, handing him the box. ”That makes it a pretty easy choice.”

There was a beat of silence.

”Well, it’s impressive,” Zayn said, grabbing a fist full of cereal and throwing it in Louis’ face.

Louis pushed his shoulder. Zayn pushed his leg. They burst out laughing.

And that was that. Simple.


	12. Chapter XII.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just starts of so serious and ends so fucking weird I’m honestly such a mess when I write oh my God.

Zayn went home just after Jay got back from her shift. He had introduced himself and made small talk before leaving. "Going to see if Liam's done with that project," he said as he walked out the front door.

"Shouldn't you be going home, mate?" Louis asked. "It's almost midnight. We've got class tomorrow, you know."

"I sleep, like, five hours every night, I'll be fine," Zayn said, waving off his concerns. "I'm sure as hell not going home yet though, doesn't matter what time it is. I'll see you tomorrow, mate."

And he had he had disappeared into the night after that. Louis hadn't gone after him, even after his cryptic words, trusting him to be able to take care of himself. When Louis walked into the living area again, he found his mother sitting at the dining table with her head buried in her hands. He immediately felt bad for her, seeing her so worn out. Her clothes smelled of spoiled grease and her bun was partly undone, loose strands of hair sticking out left and right.

”Mum, are you okay?” Louis asked carefully, sitting down in the chair in front of her opposite the table. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Jay reassured him, lifting her head with a small smile on her lips. “Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

Louis nodded, looking at his fidgeting hands. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he said, meeting his mother’s gaze again. Even though he was incredibly apprehended about telling Jay about losing his job, Louis still had to tell her.

Jay reached out and placed her hand over Louis’, stopping him from fidgeting. “What is it, Louis?”

Louis sighed softly. “I got let go yesterday. You know, Lord Of The Fries? They’re bankrupt, closing in a week.”

Jay looked deeply disappointed, and it broke Louis’ heart. “That’s not good for us,” she said. “That third job kept us going.”

”I know, I know,” Louis muttered, feeling guilty even though it wasn't his fault in any way.

”Have you seen any places where you can work?”

Louis grimaced. “Actually, I thought that, maybe, you could get a second job?” He carefully asked, not wanting to upset Jay. “You know, I already have school and two other jobs. And I finally have some free time, too.”

Jay sighed. “Louis, sweetheart, you know how tired I get,” she said. “And besides, I need to take care of the girls.”

Like Louis wasn’t tired. He had to go to school, work three jobs, take care of his sisters and try to maintain some sort of a social life all at the same time. But he never complained, never. Jay complained all the time, as though it was Louis’ fault and his task to somehow make it all better. 

“Right, of course,” he said, forcing out a tightlipped smile. ”I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can a spot someplace.”

Jay smiled, patting Louis’ hands. ”That’s my boy,” she said, standing up and heading into the kitchen. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“No, I’m okay,” Louis weakly said. “I think I’m just goin’ to head to bed.”

“Okay, good night then, sweetheart,” Jay said, popping her head around the corner and smiling brightly.

”Yeah, goodnight,” Louis mumbled, getting up from his seat and heading up to his room.

He didn’t fall asleep that night, his mind filled with too many thoughts and worries about his future, Zayn’s cryptic talking about not wanting to go home, his school work, how he didn’t want to find a third job, how his mum was being selfish about it all, about Harry who never left his mind... it was just too much.

Just too much.

❈

Louis walked into his French class earlier than usual, not seeing Harry. He turned around again and waited just outside the door for him, eager to talk to him. 

Harry appeared around the corner not much later, his expression brightening when he saw Louis. “Hey, Lou,” he said, and Louis' cheeks did not taint pink at the nickname, thank you very much.

”Let’s skip,” he immediately said, not greeting Harry back and grabbing his elbow to stop him from walking into the classroom.

Harry frowned, a confused smile on his lips. “Skip? Why?”

”Because I have some serious shit going on right now and I really can’t have school on top of it,” Louis explained hastily, wanting to leave as soon as possible before the teacher showed up. “Call it... taking a mental health day.”

Harry chuckled, nodding. “Okay, yeah, why not?” He said, agreeing enthusiastically right as Niall joined them. 

“What are you two up to?” He asked curiously, cocking an eyebrow and looking between the two.

”Taking a mental health day,” Louis said. “Skipping,” he added when Niall gave him a dumb look.

”Oh. Cool. Can I join?” He asked.

Louis shrugged. "Yeah, sure." It had been his plan to spend the day with Harry, but he supposed that the more, the merrier.

“We’re joining too,” a voice called out from down the hall. It was Liam, his hand intertwined with Zayn’s, who was lost on his phone.

”Let’s go then, before a teacher tries to stop us,” Niall said, grinning and beginning to walk to the exit of the school. The others followed. Louis' heart jumped when Harry grabbed his hand casually, an odd feeling his stomach that wasn't exactly unwelcome. 

"Which car we takin'?" Niall asked, his gaze flickering to their hands for a moment. He didn't say anything, however.

"Mine," Liam said, walking over to his Range Rover while still pulling Zayn along, who was still lost in his phone. Everyone piled into the car, Louis in the middle with Harry on his left and Niall on his right. 

"So, Louis, where were you thinking of going?" Liam asked, starting the car up and meeting Louis' eyes in the rearview mirror. 

"Somewhere where nobody else is," Louis said, shrugging a little and only just realising that he actually didn't have such a well-thought-out plan. 

Zayn finally looked up from his phone. "We could go to the basement," he said, only looking at Liam, who nodded. 

"Yeah, sure," he said, pulling out of the school's parking lot and driving off towards Zayn's 'basement', whatever that place was. Louis frowned at Harry, looking for an explanation, but he just smiled and purposely looked out of the window.

After about fifteen minutes of silent driving in which Zayn occasionally showed the rest memes, they arrived at a house only a couple of blocks away from Louis' place. It was where Zayn lived, if Louis was assuming the obvious. When they got out, Zayn didn't walk up to the front door but down a path right along the side of the house, stopping at a [basement bulkhead](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSKQtLr2xs5v2HWkeoQzv6jJtGimgsicQvuUX4Q1wSWCSWPOKTD). He stuck a key into the lock, opening it up and looking at the others expectantly, motioning to the entrance with his phone still in his hand.

"Well?" he said, raising his eyebrows. Liam went in first along with Harry, Niall and Louis following with a bit more apprehension, but following nonetheless. Zayn let the door fall shut with a bang, following the others down the steep stairs. 

He flicked a switch on the wall, turning on the only light in the basement. He then walked over to a heater hanging from the wall, pressing a button to turn it on so that the room would warm up.

Louis wasn't sure what he had expected to be inside the basement, but it surely wasn't what he saw. All four walls were covered in graffiti along a few parts on the floor and almost the entire ceiling. There were two worn-out, vintage couches and a couple of armchairs, all different types. There was an old flatscreen on top of an even older stand in front of the furniture. There was a rickety, wooden coffee table in the middle. On the other side of the basement were a bunch of cabinets filled with art supplies. There were mostly cans with spray paint, brushes, stencils and boxes with other essentials. What was probably the most surprising, however, were the musical instruments, like a keyboard and two guitars.

"Nice place, mate," Niall commented, looking around with similar expressions to Louis'. Zayn just shrugged, walking over to the cabinets and rummaging through them.

"It's my spot, you know," he said. "Pretty much the only place where my parents leave me alone."

Louis frowned a little but didn't say anything. From the little bits he has gotten so far, it seemed that Zayn's relationship with his family wasn't that great. He felt for Zayn, he really did.

Harry was sitting on one of the couches, patting the spot beside him for Louis, who sat down with only one second of reluctance. Niall sat down in one of the chairs, Liam was spread out on the other couch. 

"So, you paint?" Louis asked, trying to make conversation.

Liam chuckled. "He prefers the term 'professional artist'."

"Because I am," Zayn called over his shoulder. "Chicago's Art Institute is going to beg me to come to their school."

Niall whistled lowly. "Ain't that supposed to be, like, the best school in the world?"

"Maybe not the best," Liam said, "but definitely one of the better ones."

"That's where you want to go?" Louis inquired.

Zayn shrugged, nodding his head at the same time. "Sure, why not, right?" he said, and immediately, Liam's face fell. It took Louis a couple of seconds to register that the school was in Chicago, which was in America. In other words, on the other side of the world. If Zayn would choose to go there, he would leave Liam behind.

"'s'ambitious," Niall said, oblivious of Liam's expression, looking at the walls. "But I reckon you could get in. Looks pretty good."

Zayn suddenly turned around, holding up a small, steel box. He opened it, taking out two cigarettes--although, on closer inspection, Louis realised they weren't just regular cigarettes, but joints.

"Yes!" Louis immediately exclaimed. "That's exactly what I wanted!"

Zayn smirked, taking a lighter out of the same box that he then closed and put away again. He dropped onto the couch that Liam was laying on, who momentarily lifted his legs only to lay them on Zayn's lap as soon as he sat down. Zayn put one of the joints between his lips, lighting it. He handed the lighter and the other joint to Louis who copied his movements.

And so, fifteen minutes lighter, four out of five were completely high. Harry had said no to it, but no one had pressured him into smoking--they were all arseholes, yes, but not that big. 

Louis was laying on the couch with his head in Harry's lap, Niall spread out on the floor and staring up at the ceiling. Liam and Zayn were still in the same positions with Zayn flicking the lighter on and off while staring at it intently. 

Louis' mind was all over the place, sometimes inside the room, sometimes focused on Harry's fingers in his hair, sometimes focused on the clouds he couldn't see but could somehow imagine very clearly. "You know what?" he said, not following it up with anything as he wasn't really sure what he was going to say in the first place.

"What?" Harry asked, watching down at him with an amused smile.

"I have had a _lot_ of firsts," Louis mumbled, his eyes widening a little. "You might even say I have had _several_ firsts," he went on, pausing for a moment, because 'several' had felt bigger than 'a lot' in his head but out loud sounded much, much smaller. "A. Lot."

"What firsts?" Liam asked, snorting, although nobody really knew what was so funny. 

"Like, my first hamburger, my first steps, my first pizza," he said, pausing for a moment because he was running out of firsts. "My first kiss. My first time eating fries."

"You already said that one," Niall interrupted.

Louis frowned. "Which one?"

"The fries."

"No, I didn't."

"Pretty sure you did."

"He didn't," Harry said, interrupting their bickering. "He said hamburgers and pizza, not fries."

It was quiet for a moment. "I'm hungry now," Niall said, making everyone laugh. 

Louis wasn't hungry. At least, he didn't think so... he wasn't really sure what exactly he was feeling at the moment. It felt good, though. Which was good, he supposed. There was a lot of good at once, and Louis kind of liked it. 

"Who was it?" Zayn asked, which was a confusing question and made Louis think that Zayn was a detective who had gone undercover as a high-school student who was trying to solve a murder that was meant to have looked like a suicide but the murderer had failed and now Zayn was wondering out loud who the murderer was and--

"Who was what?" Liam asked, interrupting Louis' logical train of thought.

"The first kiss," Zayn said, still playing with the fire, which was probably dangerous but nobody was stopping him so how dangerous could it _really_ be, right?

"Oh," Louis said, frowning a little. "I don't know. With some girl. Her name started with E, I think?"

"Eve?" Niall tried.

"Emma?" Liam added, raising a hand.

"Elliot?" Zayn said, to which he got some frowns.

"That's a boys name," Louis said.

"Oh! I know! Easter!" Niall said triumphantly.

"That's not a name, that's a holiday," Liam pointed out, making Louis giggle and Harry grin, although Louis wasn't sure if he was grinning at his giggle or at Liam.

"I don't like Easter," Zayn mumbled. "The fuck does an egg and a bunny have in common?"

"Is that a trick question?" Niall asked, making Louis giggle again. Everything was suddenly very funny.

"My first kiss was Zayn," Liam said dreamily, nudging Zayn's arm with his foot. Zayn looked away from the lighter, giving his boyfriend a smile, before focusing on the fire again. It was starting to get a little weird.

"Mine was this girl named Barbara," Niall said, saying a name that Louis had never heard before. He'd have to ask Niall about as soon as he wasn't high anymore. Though, to be fair, he'd probably forget, so.

"Who was yours?" Louis asked Harry, elbowing his stomach gently to get his attention. Harry blushed a little, shaking his head.

He was about to say something, but Zayn beat him to it. "Harry's never kissed anyone," he said, snorting at his own words. "He wants it to be special."

Louis smiled brightly, his stomach fluttering at that thought right as his eyes locked with Harry's. "That's really romantic, Haz," he said. Harry smiled at him, his eyes fond.

"And, like, really gay," Niall said, earning glares from all sides. "What? Are you _not_ gay?"

"I am, but--" Harry said, but was cut off by Niall before he could continue.

"So that makes it gay," he said. "You kissing a lad is gay. Literally. That's the def-- the di-- the de--"

"Definition?" Harry finished for him with an amused grin. Louis decided that Harry looked really pretty when he smiled like that. He was pretty sure this decision would've been unanimous, had he proposed it to the others.

"Yeah, that," Niall said.

"You know, he's sort of right," Liam mumbled to himself.

"You can't be sort of right," Louis countered, pointing his finger at what he assumed was the direction where Liam was. He wasn't really looking, he had closed his eyes some time ago although he wasn't sure when exactly that was. "You're either right or wrong. You can't half-ass it."

Niall chuckled dumbly. "Heh. Half-ass."

Louis started giggling, finding it hilarious all of a sudden, and the next thing he knew was him and Niall giggling hysterically at absolutely nothing. This lasted for a couple of moments before Louis suddenly gasped at the best idea he had in years and sat up abruptly.

"Let's order pizza!" he exclaimed. Everybody else looked at him for a moment, before Niall started clapping, applauding Louis for his choice.

"One spicy chicken, please," Liam said, as though he was already ordering, which would've been very impressive, Louis had to admit.

Niall frowned. "Don't you want a pizza with that?"

Liam looked at him with a confused expression. "I want a spicy chicken pizza," he said. "Or, no, I want two spicy chickens!"

Louis had never seen Niall look more perplexed. "Two chickens on a pizza?"

"Jesus Christ," Harry said, sighing deeply and shaking his head, looking completely done with everyone in the room. "You're all fucking idiots."

And Louis decided, right then and there, that Harry swearing was probably the biggest turn-on in the existence of turn-ons. 


	13. Chapter XIII.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just a rollercoaster of emotions oh my God.

The rest of the day was spent by eating pizza end getting sober again. For Louis especially, as he had to work at seven at the Eatery.  He couldn’t come up with a worse way to end an otherwise pretty great day than to work at the Eatery and converse with Tom who had gotten a girlfriend a couple of days ago and just wouldn’t shut up about it.

Harry had driven Louis to the diner after he had picked up his car from the school’s parking lot. “Sucks you’ve got to work,” he had said. Louis had given him a tight-lipped smile and a shrug.

Once they had gotten to the diner, Louis had kissed Harry’s cheek as a thank you and a goodbye and had left the car—only after he shut the car door did he realise what he had just done. He played it off by walking into the diner casually, in reality too much of a blushing mess to look back at Harry, who was probably in a similar predicament.

Tom hadn’t seen it, thank God.

The next day was a Friday, and November 17th. Even though Louis’ eighteenth birthday was still a month-and-a-half away, his mum was already talking about it. Louis himself had specifically said that he didn’t want anything for his birthday and that the money originally meant for his birthday should be spent on Christmas presents for the girls.

After his shift at the library that afternoon, Louis had gone straight to the supermarket for his job interview there.

”Louis Tomlinson,” the woman in front of him, named Jocelyn, said. She was looking into a file that contained Louis’ cv. Louis was sitting in a chair in front of her desk, his hands clammy with nervous sweat. Even though he'd done interview after interview, he always got nervous. “I see you’ve got quite some experience? You’ve worked at two diners, the local library, a club and a drug store.”

”Actually, I still work at one of those diners,” Louis awkwardly admitted. “And the library. So my schedule is a bit tight, but I promise I can make it work.”

Jocelyn looked taken aback at his revelation. “Oh, right, I see,” she said, needing a moment to regroup. “And, why would you want a third job, if you already have two?”

Louis scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I, uh, I got fired from my third one, so I needed a new one.”

Jocelyn’s eyes were as wide as teacups. “Louis, I don’t understand,” she said. “Why in the world would you want three jobs?”

”We’ve got it tight at home,” Louis said, trying to sound nonchalant as he shrugged, not really wanting to get into his home situation. 

“What about your parents? Don’t they have jobs?”

Louis was getting annoyed. He had come here for an interview, not a therapy session with the manager. “Haven’t got a dad, me mum needs to take care of me sisters,” he said. “Listen, I need to get home to start on dinner, so.”

”Yes, yes, sorry,” Jocelyn said, looking troubled. “Well, from what I’ve seen you seem what we’re looking for, but there are some other interviewees that I haven’t met yet, so I can’t tell you if you have the job until I've met those.”

Louis nodded politely.

”If we choose you we’ll let you know via phone, okay?”

Louis nodded again.

”Okay, great,” Jocelyn said, standing up and holding out her hand. Louis quickly wiped his clammy hands on his skinny jeans, shaking her hand as he stood up.

An hour later, Louis had gone to another two interviews. One at the bakery, another one at the post-office as a receptionist. He probably wasn’t going to get that last one, as he was not exactly what they were looking for. When he’d walked into the waiting room he had only spotted women in pencil skirts and hair in buns, and he’d immediately understood that this was most definitely not his area of expertise.

After meeting with all of the interviewers, Louis' mood had gone down considerably. It made him realise how hectic and difficult his life actually was, and how much he did for his family. It showed how little his mother did.

Opening the front door, he was immediately met with loud yelling and the sound of the tv, something that wasn't uncommon in the Tomlinson household.

”Louis!” Two voices shouted in unison, Phoebe and Daisy running around the corner and hugging their brother’s legs, each girl a leg.

”Hi darlings,” Louis said, hanging up his bag (he still didn’t have a coat, which was becoming a serious problem) and forcing a smile on his face, even though he was too exhausted to really succeed. “What’s going on, huh?”

Phoebe grabbed his hand, tugging him along while Daisy just followed silently. “Look, it’s Barbie!” Phoebe said, pointing to the tv where, as she had said, Barbie was dancing with a bunch of other girls in a hidden kingdom that could only be entered by dancing a particular pattern on a bunch of stones—oh yes, Louis knew exactly what the movie was about. He could thank 4 younger sisters for that.

”It is,” Louis said with a warm smile. He watched for a couple of minutes just to entertain the girls and then walked into the kitchen. The twins and Félicité followed him, watching as he opened the fridge.

”Alright, what are we feelin’?” He said, looking at the contents inside. “Broccoli or string beans?”

He agreed with the disgusted looks he got from his sisters, rather eating hamburgers and fries than vegetables, but they needed to grow and eat healthily, so there wasn’t much of a choice. “I know, darlings,” he said. “But, we got to make mum happy, yeah?”

That seemed to do the trick. “Broccoli,” Phoebe decided. Daisy and Félicité nodded in agreement with their older sister.

”Broccoli it is,” Louis said, taking out the vegetables, potatoes and pork chop (which had been 20 per cent off so Louis had bought six packets of it). 

Fifteen minutes into making dinner, Phoebe and Daisy went back to the tv, but Félicité stuck around. Instead of saying something, she came to stand beside Louis and watched as he cut the broccoli into smaller pieces. She always did that when she had something to say, but didn’t know how to say it, so she would just wait until somebody would ask her something. It wasn’t a very healthy way of communicating, but thankfully, Louis knew his sisters better than he knew himself, and so recognised these little moments. Jay never did, funnily enough, since she was supposed to be their mother and all.

“You okay, Fiz?” Louis asked, glancing down at his sister who was still watching him cut the vegetables. “Something up?”

Félicité shrugged.

”Come on, you can talk to me,” Louis encouraged her, nudging her with his hip. She giggled a little, and Louis knew he got her.

“Is Harry your boyfriend?” Félicité asked, which was the last thing Louis had expected her to ask. He nearly cut his finger in surprise.

”No, he isn’t,” he said, recollecting himself for a moment.

”Are you in love with him?” Félicité asked, and Louis had to smile at her black-and-white, innocent vision of the world: you were either in love, or you weren’t—if only it were that easy. 

“I’m not, darling,” Louis said, readying himself for what he knew was going to be a difficult conversation for Félicité to understand. “I do like him, though.”

”As a friend?” Félicité asked.

”Yes, and more.”

”So you are in love with him?”

Louis sighed fondly, putting the knife down and crouching in front of Félicité. “See, Fiz, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” he explained, trying to sound as clean-cut and simple as he could. “Before you fall in love, you start to like somebody. It’s just as a friend at first, but then you start liking them in a different way. You feel butterflies in your tummy—“ he playfully poked Félicité’s stomach, causing her to giggle, “—and you want to touch them, like hold their hand and cuddle them. It’s a romantic attraction. You’re not in love yet, but, you can be if you just let those butterflies do their work.”

Félicité looked thoughtful for a moment, before getting a bright expression. “So it’s like half-way love!” She said, proud of her own explanation.

Louis smiled and nodded, unable to come up with a better and simpler explanation than that. “Exactly,” he said. “Like half-way love.”

”So are you in half-way love with Harry?” Félicité asked, her eyes big in curiosity. 

Louis nodded again. “I am, love,” he said, which felt good to say out loud: it made it a bit clearer for himself, too. He didn’t expect his sister to get such a disappointed look on her face, and it took him a couple of seconds before he pieced everything together. “Fiz, what’s going on? Is this why you’ve been so quiet around Harry?”

Harry had come over a couple of times in the past few weeks, either for homework or to help Louis out a bit (a weak excuse for the both of them so that they could spend time together), and every time he was around, Félicité had been timid and to herself, exactly opposite of her usual extraverted personally. Louis hadn’t paid much attention to it, too busy with staring and talking to Harry to notice anyone else, and he now felt ashamed and guilty because of it. He had completely ignored and neglected his siblings whenever Harry was in the house.

He was such an idiot.

“Oh, Fiz, I’m so sorry,” Louis sincerely said, putting a hand on Félicité’s upper arm, just below her shoulder. “That’s it, innit? I haven’t been such a good brother lately, have I? Only been paying attention to Harry.”

Félicité nodded weakly, her eyes filling with tears and getting the better of her. “I want Harry to be my friend but he only talks to you,” she said, fidgeting with her hands. “And you only talk to Harry and never play with me anymore.” 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Louis said, smiling sympathetically. “But you know that Harry loves talking to you, right? He always says how he thinks he’s not cool enough to be your friend.”

Félicité’s expression brightened immediately at that. “Really?” She asked, and Louis nodded. She didn’t need to know that he just made that up on the spot. 

“How about this,” Louis said, grabbing her hand with both his hands. “You, Harry, and I go the mall tomorrow and go get some ice cream? Then you can get to know Haz a little better, and I have an excuse for ice cream.”

Félicité giggled and nodded enthusiastically. ”Okay,” she said.

”Alright,” Louis said with a grin, getting to his feet again. ”But don’t tell your sisters, okay? It has to be a secret.”

Félicité beamed and nodded, clearly elated for being able to keep a secret with Louis and Harry, two (in her eyes) adults.

And Louis was proud to say that he only burned one of the pork chops, nailed the broccoli and didn’t cut himself once.

❈

“ _Hi, Lou_.”

”Hey, Haz. What are you doing tomorrow?”

” _Nothing. Or, nothing yet, I’m guessing_?”

”Great. You’re taking Fizzy out for ice cream tomorrow. Be at my place at two?”

” _Oh, I’d really like that, yeah. Sounds fun. See you then_.”

”See you tomorrow, love.”

 ❈

Harry was Harry, and arrived exactly at two.

The Tomlinsons were the Tomlinsons, and neither Félicité nor Louis were ready by the time Harry arrived.

”Hi, love, come in,” Louis said, opening the front door for Harry. He was smiling brightly, a regular expression for him whenever he visited the Tomlinsons’ household. He loved it here, had told Louis so multiple times. As if his expression hadn’t given that away yet.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow at Louis who was wearing one shoe without a sock and a sock on the other, shoeless foot. “I guess you’re not ready yet?”

Louis smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, well, I’m not joining anyway,” he said, Harry smiling in excitement at the thought of being trusted enough by Louis to spend an entire day with Félicité. “Fizzy is putting on her shoes, but she has trouble with tying ‘em so if you could help her with that? She’s in the living room.”

Harry nodded eagerly, walking into the living room to help. Louis loved that about Harry: he was completely gone for kids. Babies, toddlers, pre-teens: Harry loved them all, and lucky for Louis, his household had the entire collection. Because of Harry’s love for kids, he was always more than willing to help with them. It made Louis’ life a lot easier, especially right now.

He was looking around for money in his room, having sworn to have put it on his desk but now unable to find it. After a couple of minutes of frantic searching and some untasteful curses, he found it in the pocket in a pair of his skinny jeans. He had lost his shoe somewhere in his haste, now only wearing a single sock, his other foot bare.

Rushing down the stairs, he walked in on Harry crouched in front of Félicité and helping her put her purple winter jacket on. Louis' heart melted at the sight.

”Yeah, there you go, now the other sleeve,” Harry assisted, smiling warmly. “Hey, good job, kiddo!”

He high-fived Félicité, who looked exceptionally proud of herself. Louis chose that moment to take the last steps down the stairs.

”Thanks,” he said to Harry, who smiled. “We should pay you for the amount of help you give around here. Do more than mum.”

”That’s not true, Jay does a lot too,” Harry defended Louis’ mum. Louis just raised his brows to himself, seriously doubting his statement. Lately, he realised that the more he thought about it, the more he noticed that his mum actually didn’t do that much. 

“Anyway,” Louis said, stepping a little closer and holding out his hand that held two tenners. “You can take as long as you want, just be back by six—can’t have you missing dinner—and do not—“ Louis gave Harry a stern look, “—do not buy anything else other than ice cream, got it?”

Harry chuckled, earning himself a slap on the shoulder. “I’m serious, Haz, you’re always buying shit for us.” 

Which wasn’t entirely true as Harry actually hadn’t bought them anything in the last two weeks, but that was beside the point.

”Okay, Louis,” Harry said, pushing Louis’ hand that was holding the money back to his chest. “I can pay for it myself, though.”

Louis smiled tiredly. “Thanks for this, Harry. Really, thanks,” he said, glancing inside the living room to find all his sisters, including Félicité, in front of the tv. ”Fiz was almost crying yesterday ‘cause we never do anything anymore.” Louis sighed, rubbing his forehead. Harry hooked their pinky fingers together in an attempt to soothe him, and of course, it worked immediately. “All they do is watch the telly and make homework. I feel like a dick.”

”Don’t do that to yourself,” Harry said, smiling reassuringly. “You’re a great brother, they know that, Jay knows that, _I_ know that. Don’t beat yourself up.”

Louis smiled at him. “You’re really fucking great, you know that?” 

Harry blushed a little, his eyes flickering around Louis’ face. Louis was proud to say that he was less intimidated by it nowadays, used to Harry constantly staring at him. 

“Something on me face?” Louis said, unable to hold back his teasing.

Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “It’s just,” he said, hesitating, before sighing. “Can I kiss you?”

Louis' heart jumped at his question, and he wanted nothing more than to say yes, but also didn’t want his first kiss with Harry to be in his hallway with his sisters practically in full view and his mum somewhere in the house to walk in on them.

He still blushed, though. “How about tonight?” He asked, Harry’s eyes lighting up. “When we’re, like, _alone_ , and not with an audience.”

”That’s a deal,” Harry said, grinning as though he had just won the lottery. “Try getting out of it.”

”God help me,” Louis said, but couldn’t help but to return the grin. He then turned to Félicité. “Fiz, you ready to go?”

Félicité jumped up, quickly running into the hall, only to stop and frown at the sight of a shoeless Louis. “Aren’t you coming?” She asked. 

Louis crouched in front of her, grabbing both her hands. “Something came up, darling,” he lied smoothly. “You don’t mind going with Harry, right?” He leaned closer theatrically. “Harry’s a little bit nervous to hang out with you, he just told me,” he whispered, loud enough so that Harry could hear. Louis trusted him to connect the dots at the scheme he was creating.

Félicité nodded, suddenly looking determined. “I’m ready,” she said. Louis smiled, ruffling her hair and earning an annoyed pout.

”Good girl,” he said, standing up and gently pushing her towards Harry. She took Harry’s hand without any hesitation.

”I’ll see you two in a couple of hours, yeah?” Louis said, more to Harry than to Félicité. Harry smiled, nodding. Louis leaned over and kissed his cheek, relishing in the blush that it created on Harry’s cheeks. “Have fun, love,” he said. Harry nudged Louis’ nose with his own and then opened the front door, gently pulling Félicité along.

Louis watched the two of them walk down the path through the front garden. 

“Did you know that Louis is in half-way love with you?” Félicité casually said, as though it was such a normal opening sentence for a conversation.

Harry looked over his shoulder at Louis with a grin. “Is he, then?” He asked, looking like he just found a goldmine. To be fair, it was goldmine filled with teasing material for Harry.

Louis rolled his eyes and closed the door.

He was too gone for Harry, honestly.

❈

Louis managed to avoid Jay most of the day, but eventually, she managed to corner him in the kitchen when he went to get something to drink for the twins. Lottie was at a friends house. Harry and Félicite weren't back yet, even though it was already five.

“I got a call from the school,” Jay said, leaning her hip against the counter and crossing her arms in front of her chest, a typical scolding pose for every mother. 

Louis tried to act oblivious, knowing exactly what type of storm he was about to endure. “Really?” He said, looking through the fridge as though he didn’t see the apple juice right in front of his face.

”Yes,” his mum said, cocking an eyebrow. “You skipped school yesterday? You want to tell me about that?”

“Oh, yeah,” Louis said, shrugging as he grabbed the apple juice and stood up straight. “Took a mental health day.”

”Any of your friends joined?” Jay asked, obvious distaste on the word ‘friends’, something that was incredibly unfair and most likely without any reason.

It made Louis turn around, abruptly feeling defensive for his friends. “What are you saying, mum?”

Jay sighed, sounding agitated when she absolutely had no right. “Are you letting those boys pressure you into this?”

”What? No!” Louis said, forgetting about the apple juice entirely. “What are you on about?”

”Did you get high?” Jay suddenly asked, surprising Louis with the question. He'd expected a lot, but not that. “I could smell it on your sweater, don’t lie to me.”

”Yes, we got high!” Louis exclaimed, slowly getting more and more annoyed with his mother. “And I wanted to! I didn’t get _pressured_ into it or whatever.”

Jay narrowed her eyes. “Was Harry there too? The same Harry that’s taking my daughter out right now?”

Louis laughed humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Are you hearing yourself? Have you met Harry? He’s like, fucking cotton candy come to life. He’d never do anything wrong!”

”So that boy didn’t pressure you into using drugs and skipping school?”

”Oh, my God— _no._ If anything _I_ was the one who pressured _him_ into it! And you know what, Harry doesn’t smoke. Not cigarettes, not weed.”

Jay massaged her temple, looking irritated which was so fucking unfair considering the entire situation. “Louis, I don’t want you throwing your education away because of your friends.”

Louis was pretty sure she wasn’t listening to a single thing he was saying, if her words were anything to go by. “Believe me, I do not need them for that, you’re doing a good enough job of it yourself.”

”Excuse me?” Jay said, her face flaring up in both anger and disbelief. “I would never—“

”Make me drop out?” Louis finished for her. “No, you’re right, you’re only making me work three jobs and take care of the girls and go to school and pressure me into taking care of _you_ when it should be the other fucking way around!”

”Louis—“

”No! Shut up! Just fucking listen to me for once!” Louis yelled, aware that everyone in the house could hear him but not having a single care for it. “I do everything! I’m completely exhausted every single day because I’m constantly working, taking care of everyone and still go to school! You do _nothing_!You could get a proper job like work at a fucking office and get minimum wage, but instead, you work at a diner that hardly pays you and you rely on _me_ to bring in all the money! It’s not my fucking fault that you got pregnant with me before you were even twenty!”

Jay looked shocked, her eyes wide and her lips parted.

Louis wasn’t done yet, however. “It’s not my fault that dad left!” His eyes were filling with tears, his voice thick and wavering, breaking at certain points. “It’s not my fault! None of this is! Stop treating me like I’m a mistake! _I’m not a fucking mistake_!” He pointed a shaky finger at Jay. “I’m not a mistake. This life is on you, you should’ve gotten an education and a good job. It is not my fault that you fucked up your own life when you had me or any of the girls!”

It was dead quiet in the kitchen, Louis breathing heavily and tears streaming down his face. Jay looked at the brink of tears. 

“Louis?” A tiny voice asked from the entrance to the kitchen. Louis snapped his head to the sound, finding Félicité and the twins with wide eyes, terrified of everything they had just witnessed. It took Louis a second to see Harry behind them, looking relatively calm. His eyes were telling Louis different, however, filled with hurt at what he was seeing.

”Hey, sweetheart,” Louis said, forcing on a smile and hastily wiping away his tears. “Did you and Harry have a fun day?”

Félicité didn’t answer. Louis met Harry's eyes, feeling hopeless. Harry seemed to recognise his hopelessness and grabbed Félicité's and Phoebe's shoulders. "How about we go take our jackets off, yeah?" He said, pulling the speechless sisters along. Daisy followed, not needing to get pulled along by Harry.

Louis looked at his mother again, who seemed a bit more pulled together now. "Louis--"

"No," Louis interrupted, shaking his head. "Just... piss off. I don't want to hear whatever excuse you've got."

And then he walked out of the kitchen, unable to look at the hurt expression on Jay's face, afraid that he'd end up apologising and saying he hadn't meant it. He had said those hurtful things because he wanted his mother to see how done he was, and apologising would just mean they'd forget the whole thing and move on. Louis didn't want that, no.

Louis just wanted a different life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the feels


	14. Chapter XIV.

Growing up in a household like Louis’ meant constant noise. Sometimes, the noise would get too much for Louis, so he’d go to his very own spot: the roof in front of his window. It was an extended part of the ground floor where the kitchen was. He hadn’t been to his spot in a long time because he didn’t have the time for it anymore. Now, however, he had made time: after his fight with Jay, he had gone straight upstairs and to the roof, climbing through the window and nearly tumbling to the ground because of his hazy view due to the tears in his eyes.

He hadn’t even looked at Harry when he passed him, although Louis knew he was still downstairs because he hadn’t seen him walk out of the front door yet. 

Louis had cried for a little while but forced himself to stop soon enough, not allowing himself to cry again. He’d lit up a cigarette right after. Then another one. He was now on his third already.

It was also absolutely freezing out, but the sweater that he nicked from Niall (Niall knew about it) kept him just warm enough, though he gradually got colder and colder and was seriously starting to consider grabbing a blanket.

How long exactly he sat there, he wasn’t sure. It felt like half an hour but could’ve easily been much longer. It was right when Louis started considering slipping out of the house that Harry climbed through the window and sat down beside Louis. He didn’t say anything yet, crinkling his nose at the cigarette between Louis’ fingers, disapproving without even using words. 

He reached out and plucked it from Louis’ fingers, pressed it out against the roof and then tossed it into the bushes down below. “Those things kill you.”

Louis shrugged, keeping his gaze in front of himself. “Kind of the point.”

Harry exhaled sharply in some sort of surprised, insincere laugh. After a couple of seconds, he reached out and lightly trailed his fingers over Louis’ exposed ankle where his skinny jeans were folded up. It surprised Louis, but he didn’t flinch. ”You’re not a mistake, you know,” Harry mumbled, the both of them watching Harry’s fingers dancing an indecisive pattern.

”My mum had me when she was seventeen,” Louis replied, swallowing thickly. “Nobody gets intentionally pregnant at that age. It was a mistake on her and my dad’s part.”

”Maybe the pregnancy was a mistake—which I think is the wrong word, by the way,” Harry said, trying to meet Louis’ eyes which were still trained on his fingers on his ankle. “But you weren’t. You never were, never will be.”

Louis let out a shaky sigh. “Can’t help but feel like one, though.” He bit his lip, wondering when Harry had walked in on him and Jay. “How much did you hear, exactly?”

”Walked into the house right when Jay accused me of pressuring you into weed, I think,” Harry said, smiling awkwardly. “Kind of awkward to hear her say that about me.”

Louis finally met his eyes, feeling apologetic for his mother’s words. “What she was saying was bullshit, I told her that.”

Harry chuckled, nodding. His fingers were now on Louis’ knee. “Yeah, I heard.” He looked at Louis for a moment. “You don’t think that she, like, hates me, right?”

”No, no,” Louis quickly said, shaking his head. “Definitely not. She adores you. She’s just a bit... you know, motherly.”

A smile made its way to Harry’s lips, his dimples appearing—Louis honestly couldn’t get enough of them. “Right. Who would hate somebody who’s cotton candy in the flesh, right?”

Louis blushed, ducking his head with a small smile. “Oh, my God. Don’t even—that was so dumb, I just needed to get a point across, I’m sorry.”

”No, no, don’t apologise, I kind of liked it, it was sweet.”

”Sweet like cotton candy?”

Harry chuckled, nodding. “Yes, exactly, like cotton candy.”

Harry’s fingers were now on Louis’ thigh, tracing figures. First, it was a sun, then a stick figure, then a heart. Then he traced out his name. “Now my name’s in your jeans forever.”

”Romantic,” Louis dryly said, earning a small slap on his leg, which he deserved, he supposed. “Jokin’.”

Harry smiled, shaking his head fondly. “So, is this the wrong time to admit that I may or may not have totally bought you a coat and a couple of toys for the twins and _maybe_ some make-up for Lots?”

Louis looked at him for a couple of seconds before bursting out into disbelieving laughter. “You absolute knob,” he said through laughs, completely uncaring for the first time regarding the money spent on his family. “Do you actually ever listen?”

Harry grinned sheepishly. “I was kind of hoping for this reaction, so,” he admitted, his cheeks turning a light pink. “It’s a really nice coat, though, I think you’ll like it.”

Even though Louis needed to scold Harry for what he was doing as he still didn’t like being treated like a charity, he just couldn’t help but get an overwhelming sense of adoration for the boy in front of him. From his red cheeks to his messy, curly hair to his sparkling, green eyes, Louis knew that he was so, so lucky to have somebody like Harry in his life. 

And then he met Harry’s eyes and something just clicked within himself. It made him lean forward quickly and press his lips against Harry’s, who made a sound of surprise and dug his fingers into Louis’ thigh in a similar emotion. 

Only after a couple of seconds did Louis realise he had just totally taken Harry’s first kiss without his consent, which prompted him to pull back abruptly.

”Oh, my God, Haz, I’m so sorry, I just totally stole your first kiss,” he frantically said, blind to the fondness radiating of Harry. “I should’ve asked, Jesus, I’m such a wanker, I—“

”Shut up, honestly,” Harry interrupted promptly, and then grabbed the front of Louis’ shirt and pulled him forward to reconnect their lips.

The kiss was messy and new and everything Louis wanted. The two of them fumbled through it, still unfamiliar with the kiss—Harry in particular, considering it was his first. But even though it probably looked awkward, it was honestly the best and most trusted thing Louis had ever felt and ever done. His heart was rabbiting in his chest, his entire body tingling and his head a complete, throbbing mess. He honestly felt like he was about to fly, which was so cheesy but so true.

When they pulled apart again and Louis opened his eyes and saw Harry, his heart stopped beating and sped up all at the same time because Harry looked _obscene_. His lips were red, slightly swollen and wet, his cheeks flushed and his hair a mess from where Louis had run his hands through it. Louis didn’t need a mirror to know that he was probably sporting a similar look.

“We just...” he managed to mumble, completely breathless.

”Yeah,” Harry said, equally breathless. “Are you, like, happy? That it happened, I mean.”

”Happy? I’m fucking ecstatic, Jesus, look at my hands, they’re actually trembling,” Louis said, shaking his head and making Harry bark out a laugh.

”Idiot,” he said. “I tried to make this all meaningful and romantic and you just have to ruin it.”

Louis grinned, feeling like the Rihanna song about being drunk on love was honestly such a mood. “We have such shit timing with these type of things, honestly.”

Harry giggled— _giggled_ —and leaned his forehead on Louis’ shoulder. “We do.”

It was quiet for a moment.

”Are we, like, a thing now, please?” Harry asked, not lifting his head. “Because, I’m not very patient when it comes to romantic stuff with you, and I’ve had to endure your pining for weeks now, so.”

”Oi, I wasn’t pining,” Louis defended, although he couldn’t help the grin on his lips because he knew Harry was just teasing. “And I thought we were already pretty exclusive? Like, I said I liked you. You returned it. We’ve been acting like boyfriend and boyfriend for a while now.”

Harry lifted his head, now leaning his forehead against Louis’ cheek, which should be awkward but just really, really wasn’t. “Can we act like boyfriend and boyfriend and actually be boyfriends at the same time?”

Louis pretended to think about it. “I don’t know, I’m going to need some convincing, I reckon.”

“Okay,” Harry said with a bright smile, and then softly kissed Louis again, who couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. It was slow and gentle and eventually ended in the two of them just smiling against each other’s lips, which made them giggle while pressing their foreheads against each other. 

“Even though your convincing sucked,” Louis said softly, not moving away. “I totally am your boyfriend right now.”

Louis was pretty sure that he had never seen a brighter smile on Harry’s face. “I’m a great convincer,” he whispered. “And you need to brush your teeth because you taste like cigarettes.”

”Part of the charm, tosser,” Louis replied easily.

”Cancer isn’t charming, idiot.”

”Wanker.”

”Knobhead.”

”Git.”

”Jesus Christ, kiss me already.”

So Louis did. It was an easy decision for everyone involved, really.

❈

Harry stayed for dinner, which was awkward and tense, but only for a few minutes because Harry was Harry and resolved any tension by simple jokes and his charming self. Louis hardly talked during the dinner: where the others laughed he smiled, where the others talked he listened unless somebody directly addressed him. 

Louis was disappointed when Harry left that night, even though it was almost one am and they'd spend the entire evening together in Louis' room. Harry left fifteen minutes later after announcing to Louis he had to go home due to a thorough snogging session by the front door.

Boyfriend. It was Louis' new favourite word.

He made sure to wake up at the latest possible moment before work in order to avoid Jay. Thankfully, his shift at the Eatery started at ten am and ended at three, meaning he wasn't home for nearly the entire day. Eventually, however, he'd have to confront his mother with what he had said. That was after his shift, however.

Now it was Tom taking up most of his attention. 

"I'm meeting her parents next weekend," he told Louis, who picked up the empty coffee mugs from one of the tables, smiling politely at the two girls sitting there. 

"Really?" he inquired, not really interested but not exactly up for getting fired. "Do they live nearby?"

"Scotland, actually," Tom said as they walked to the kitchens. "So I'm not going to be here, unfortunately for you."

Louis couldn't be more excited, putting the mugs in the sink for the dishwasher to clean (her name was Emma, and she was late _again_ ). "Well, I'll miss you greatly," he sarcastically said, but Tom still didn't catch up on it. He never had. Sarcasm preceded his intellectual capacity, evidently.

"No need, mate, I'll be back before you know it," Tom said, flashing his pearly white teeth in a grin. "I'll bring you back a souvenir, eh?"

Louis smiled a tightlipped smile. "Sounds great," he lied through his teeth, walking out of the kitchen again to take the order of an old couple who had sat down a few minutes ago. 

"Hi, welcome to the Eatery, are you ready to order?" Louis asked brightly, earning himself some polite, surprised smiles from the couple.

They both ordered tea with milk, no sugar and two slices of butter cake. 

Tom watched as Louis got behind the counter to prepare the tea, not helping even though he had clearly heard the order. He never helped. 

"What?" Louis asked as he almost burned his hand on the hot water. Tom shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

"Nothing, you're just awfully chipper this morning," he said, making Louis frown and glance at him to urge him to elaborate. "Usually you're really rude and irritable, now you're... not you."

Louis shook his head, grabbing the two teacups and two slices of the cake. He put them on a tray and quickly went over to the old couple before Tom could say anything else. The woman commented on how Louis 'had the most exquisite eyes, dear' to which Louis replied with a polite 'thank you' and 'enjoy your food'.

The moment he got back to the kitchen to check on the order of table eleven, Tom continued. "What happened? Was there a birth I don't know about? A death? Did you win the lottery?"

Louis sighed, turning around with an agitated look. "No, Tom, I got a boyfriend, alright?" he said, which was honestly such a good fucking thing to say. "Now, can I please get back to work?"

Tom looked surprised before nodding quickly. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Uh, congrats, mate. You deserve it."

Then he slinked off to his office, leaving Louis behind in surprise. He had expected Tom to make an array of comments that would leave Louis in a horrible mood, but instead, he'd just left timidly.

One of the cooks laughed. "You got him good, mate," he said, slapping Louis on the back. "Never seen 'im like that, so quiet. You messed 'im up properly."

Louis grinned, also a little amused at the situation. Maybe he was being a bit rude towards Tom, but he wasn't too worried. Knowing Tom, he'd be his own, annoyingly polite self within a few hours again. 

Then he focused on his shift again, because he still had three-and-a-half hours to go. 

When his shift ended Louis called Harry and talked to him on the phone for half an hour. They talked about absolutely nothing, the most eventful subject being that Louis hadn't talked to Jay yet, which earned him a thorough scolding from Harry. It took them a while to properly hang up as neither really wanted to say goodbye. After their final goodbye, they stayed on the phone for a couple more seconds, listening to each other's breathing which made Louis end the call with a small smile.

He called Niall after that, asking him to hang out. Niall agreed.

It was at his house that he found himself, sprawled out over Niall's bed. Niall was sat in front of his average sized tv, playing Fifa and completely getting his arse kicked by whoever he was playing against. Louis was talking about all the things that happened during his shift, like the old couple who'd tipped him a tenner when their order had only cost six pounds or the girls that had asked for his number and Tom who hadn't come out of his office anymore all day.

"So why didn't you— _oh for fuck's sake—_ give them your number?" Niall asked, frantically pressing a button on his controller. "And what the hell did you say to— _fucker—_ Tom?"

"Well," Louis said, smiling dreamily up at the ceiling, pausing for a moment for dramatic effect. "I said I had a boyfriend."

"You what?" Niall exclaimed, still not looking away but sounding shocked. It wasn't like he wasn't interested in Louis' stories, Louis knew that. 

"Yeah," Louis said with a small chuckle.

"What about Harry, mate? I thought you two— _you fucking cunt—_ were like, 'working on it' or some shit— _wanker—_?"

"Actually..."

It was quiet for a moment.

"Wait, what the _fuck_?" Niall yelled, throwing the controller on the floor, completely forgetting his FIFA match and immediately turning to Louis. "You and Harry are  _dating_? Like, boyfriends? Like, exclusive?"

"Like, yes," Louis said, smiling brightly as he rolled onto his stomach and leaned his chin on his hand. "We're official, you know. I kissed him. He kissed me back. It was a whole thing."

"Oh, my God, Zayn owes me a tenner," Niall said, which made Louis frown but he didn't say anything because  Niall looked absolutely thrilled. "I'm so happy for you, mate." Then he punched Louis in the arm, making Louis look at him with a frown. 

"Oi, what was that for?"

"For making us all lose our minds with how long you two were dancin' around each other!" Niall said, punching him again. "We were going mental, looking at you droolin' over Harry and Harry lookin' like he was about to set himself on fire every time you walked into the room."

He went to punch Louis again, who quickly dodged it. "Yeah, I get it, that's enough," he said. "But, you know. I'm not single anymore."

Niall nodded, patting Louis' shoulder again and about to turn back to his game when Louis stopped him again. He'd been talking on and on about himself, but he hadn't asked Niall a single thing about himself. "Wait. How have you been? What's goin' on in your life?"

Niall smiled, looking grateful for the fact that he was asked about his own life. It made Louis feel a little guilty. "Met a girl, actually," he said. "Camille. A real doll, you'll like her. You know she only wears chamomile perfume, 'cause she thinks it suits her name?"

Louis couldn't help but smile at Niall's fond look. "So we like her, then?"

"She's incredible," Niall said, shrugging a little. "Can't wait to get to know her better."

"I bet."

"You and Harry, though. I mean, shit, right?"

"Yeah, but, like, positive instead of negative."

"I know. I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy for you too."

And then Niall turned back to his telly and Louis laid back down. Their friendship was simple and easy, and Louis felt completely at ease around Niall. 

Louis considered him a brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that Louis and Harry aren’t ‘moving fast’ with the whole boyfriend thing. It’s important to note that they’re still teenagers and are still very inexperienced in love, and they’ve also been dancing around each other for a long time now. Taking that into account, they could’ve been dating for a while now already if Louis hadn’t been so apprehensive with letting himself feel.
> 
>  
> 
> _They are not moving fast._


	15. Chapter XV.

Louis opened the front door with the full intent of walking inside and confronting his mother with their conversation from yesterday. When he walked inside and found Jay sitting at the dining table with tears streaming down her face and a letter in hand, he abruptly got rid of the intention and quickly rushed over.

"Mum? What's going on?" He asked, sitting down on the chair beside her and grabbed one of her hands.

Jay wiped her tears away, shaking her head a little. "It's Mark," she said. Mark was Louis' stepfather who had taken off a couple of years ago and thus forcing them into their current living situation.

"What about him, mum?" Louis asked, afraid of what she was going to say. Instead of answering, Jay handed him the letter. After a quick glance over, Louis knew what they were.

Divorce papers.

"What the hell?" Louis breathed out. "Did—were you expecting this? Like, did you discuss it with him?"

Jay shook her head, making Louis breathe in sharply. He quickly read through the letter. What it really came down to, was that Jay had three weeks to sign or they'd end up in a lawsuit. After signing, they were allowed to keep the last name Tomlinson, got one car and a total amount of 15.000 pounds, half of what Mark had. 

"Mum, I'm so sorry."

Jay squeezed Louis' hand, smiling the saddest smile Louis had seen since Mark left. "Nonsense, sweetheart. This isn't your fault," she said, taking in a deep breath. "He doesn't pain me anymore, it just surprised me, that's all."

And Louis believed her. She had stopped wearing her ring a long time ago, and Louis was pretty sure that she'd be dating somebody else if she didn't have her hands so full with her daughters.

"Do you need me to do something?" Louis asked, unsure of what exactly he _could_ do.

"Yes," Jay said. "I need you to get me a pen so I can sign these papers and get us a new car and 15.000 pounds."

Louis nodded stiffly, getting up from his seat and grabbing a pen from atop the coffee table by the couch. He handed it to Jay who signed the divorce papers without a moment of hesitation.

”You want me to post them tomorrow before I go to school?” Louis asked, pretending not to see Jay’s trembling hand. 

Jay smiled weakly. “If it’s not too much trouble?” 

Louis shook his head. He hesitated for a moment with leaving the room. There was an obvious tension in which they both knew they were thinking about the same thing: their fight.

In the end, neither said anything and Louis left the room, the both of then deciding that it wasn’t the right moment to talk about it. 

Louis pretended not to hear Jay bursting out into sobs the moment he walked up the stairs, knowing that she needed some time alone. He checked each of his siblings’ room, finding them all fast asleep except for Lottie, who was practising her makeup in front of the mirror. It was the makeup Harry had bought her, and it reminded Louis of his new coat. 

He hadn’t looked at it yet, but he knew that the plastic bag was under his desk, waiting to be opened.

After a quick scolding concerning Lottie staying up so late on a school night, Louis retreated to his room and grabbed the big, plastic bag from under his desk.

A bright red colour was the last thing he expected. It was from [Adidas](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cd/21/cf/cd21cf03685e2ebcb240c918d186ccc3.jpg), and Louis was lying if he said he didn’t like it. Putting it on, he found he actually fit it too. But the thing was, Harry had spoken of a coat. 

Grabbing the plastic bag, Louis saw that there was a second item in it, because Harry wouldn’t be Harry without spoiling the people he cared about. Taking the [coat](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/27/b9/ce/27b9ce9d1b0bf0d1178e57720083a364.jpg) out of the bag, Louis was a little stunned by the quality. It was a coin grey colour and ended halfway down his upper leg. It was a gorgeous coat. Clearly, Harry had a good taste in clothes.

Louis laid down on his bed and took out his phone, making sure his hair looked good before he facetimed Harry. He picked up after two rings. Louis felt a little guilty about calling when he saw that Harry was in bed and remembered that it was already late and they had school tomorrow.

” _Hi, Lou!_ ” Harry said, not seeming the least bit bothered by the hour Louis was calling him at, his smile widening when he saw what Louis was wearing. “ _You’re wearing the jacket I bought you! And it fits!_ ”

”Yeah, I’m wearing one of two,” Louis said, cocking an eyebrow and causing Harry to smile sheepishly. “What do you think? Reckon I look fit?”

Harry nodded enthusiastically. “ _You look proper fit_ ,” he said, and Louis hated himself for blushing. “ _Are you blushing?_ ”

”What? No,” Louis said, rolling onto his stomach. “Anyway, that’s not the only reason I called.”

” _Something wrong?_ ” Harry asked, furrowing his brows together. “ _Did you talk to Jay yet?_ ”

Louis waited a second too long with answering because Harry instantly knew that he hadn’t talked to Jay about _that_ yet.

” _Louis_.”

”Yeah, I know, but that’s also not it.”

Harry looked a little concerned now. “ _What’s going on? You’re not like, dumping me, right?_ ”

Louis chuckled, shaking his head. “No, love, definitely not,” he said. “It’s just... d’you remember Mark?”

” _Oh, yeah, your arsehole stepfather, right?_ ” Harry asked, and Louis nodded with a small smile. Of course he had remembered Mark from the one time Louis had quickly mentioned him once in a conversation, and of course, he knew how to refer to him in the exact right way. “ _What about him?_ ”

Louis sighed, his smile disappearing as quickly as it came. “He hasn’t talked to us in years, right? Well, instead of being a fuckin’ father and comin’ here to talk it out or whatever, he literally sent me mum divorce papers. Like, via mail and without notice.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “ _What the hell?_ ” He asked, sitting up a bit straighter in his bed. “ _He just send it? Out of nowhere?_ ”

”Out of nowhere, yeah.”

” _What a dick, honestly. Is Jay okay?_ ” Harry asked, always thinking of everyone.

”She’s acting like it doesn’t bother her, but I can tell she’s hurting,” Louis said, sighing deeply and shaking his head. “I feel like shit, Haz. She doesn’t deserve this. First my yelling, then this...”

” _No, Louis, don’t_ ,” Harry said, sounding determined. “ _This is not your fault. Your fight with Jay was something else entirely. This is... I hate to say it, but it’s between Mark and Jay, okay?_ ” He smiled sympathetically. “ _I know you probably want to help, but some things are out of your power. This is your mum’s fight, you can’t keep fighting everyone’s battles_.”

Louis wished he was there, with Harry, right now, so he could kiss him. Harry was the most understanding person in the world, and Louis felt so unbelievably lucky to have him. “Haz?” He asked, waiting for Harry to nod. “You’re a bloody perfect boyfriend, you know?”

Harry honked out a laugh, Louis’s favourite, and blushed. “ _I’m really not, but thank you_.” 

“Are you blushing?” Louis asked, intentionally repeating Harry’s earlier thoughts. 

Smiling, Harry shook his head. He was about to answer, but a yawn cut him off. Louis immediately felt guilty again. “I’m sorry, am I keeping you up?”

” _No, no, I’m not tired_ ,” Harry said, clearly suppressing another yawn if the strain of his jaw was anything to go by.

”You’re a shit liar, Haz,” Louis said. “I’ll let you sleep, yeah?”

Harry gave him a fond smile that put Louis’ heart into a frenzy. “ _Okay. But if you can’t sleep, just call me again, okay?_ ” He said. “ _I know you’re the type of person to lie awake about this, but you don’t have to do that alone_.”

Louis was crazy about him, he really was. “Thanks, love, I will.”

” _D’you want me to pick you up tomorrow for school?_ ”

”I need to drop off the girls first.”

” _They can come with, idiot_.”

”Oi, careful, Styles,” Louis warned, but still grinned widely. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, love.”

Harry looked absolutely delighted. “ _Goodnight, Lou_.”

After staring at each other for a few seconds, which actually wasn’t as awkward as it sounded, Louis ended the call. He eventually went to sleep, feeling strangely light as a result of his call with Harry. Harry had a strong effect on his mood and his emotions, and it was a frightening thing, but Louis couldn’t get himself to truly care.

Yes, he was scared. Terrified, even. Having feelings for somebody was terrifying, and Louis knew that his feelings were developing so, so quickly. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up falling in love with Harry, but the thing was, was that Louis just couldn’t get himself to be careful. He wanted all of this, he didn’t want to watch out for the things to come from their relationship. There was still so much for him and Harry to discover together, and Louis didn’t want to be careful through any of it.

He was ready to do this with Harry, no matter the consequences.

❈

The next morning, Louis just finished doing his hair when Harry arrived. He quickly rushed down the stairs at the sound of the doorbell, opening it to find Harry with a smile and holding two brown paper bags containing, what Louis assumed, breakfast for the whole family.

”Hey,” Louis said, stepping aside to let Harry in, who pecked his lips with a small hey and then continued on his way to the kitchen.

Louis could definitely get used to that greeting.

He followed Harry quickly. “You didn’t need to bring us breakfast,” he commented as Harry put the bags on the counter. 

Harry shrugged a little. “I know. I thought it’d be nice, though,” he said, opening the buttons of his coat and taking it off, hanging it over the back of one of the chairs by the dining table.

Louis loved how comfortable Harry was in his house. 

“Is Jay still asleep?” Harry asked, leaning against the counter as Louis grabbed a few plates.

”Yeah. She sleeps in ‘cause she always does the late shifts,” he said, putting the plates on the table. Harry helped by grabbing a couple of mugs just as Louis put on the tea. It felt strangely domestic, and Louis didn’t know what to do with himself. Once they were done, Louis stared at the table, his mind going over Mark's actions. It was a fucked up thing and so random, and he just couldn't grasp why Mark would do something like that. His stepfather had never been so cold before--he may have left them out of nowhere, but that didn't destroy all the previous years with them, all the memories. He had four daughters... did they really mean that little to him?

”Hey,” Harry gently said, grabbing Louis’ wrist and pulling him towards himself, cutting off Louis' train of thought. Louis let himself get pulled against Harry’s body, not really able to find a valid argument to not have physical contact with him. Harry looked at him with concerned eyes, his arms winding around Louis’ waist. “Are you doing okay?”

Louis shrugged, wanting to say he was fine but unable to do so when Harry brushed some hair away from his forehead. “I think so. It’s just really confusing, all of this stuff going on,” he admitted, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Harry’s neck.

Harry bit his lip. “Is this confusing?” He asked. “Like, us?”

”Oh, my God, Haz, no, you’re like, the one thing I can make sense of in my life,” Louis quickly reassured him. “Jesus, we’ve been dating for two days, what do you think?”

Harry smiled, shrugging sheepishly. “I don’t know, this is just all very new for me, you know?”

Louis kissed his cheek. “I know, love. That’s why we’re doing this together, yeah?” He said, looking Harry straight in his eyes. “We’re going to figure this out together.”

”Thank you, Lou,” Harry said, before leaning in and connecting their lips. It caused Louis’ heartbeat to quicken, an effect that just happened so effortlessly whenever Harry was around.

They kissed slowly and gently, pulling apart once the tea was done. Harry’s hands slipped off Louis’ waist when Louis went to grab the tea. He poured it into his own cup, Harry’s and Lottie’s. The twins and Félicité didn’t drink tea, which was probably a national disgrace, but Louis knew they’d turn around eventually. They _were_ Tomlinsons, after all.

Lottie was the first to enter the kitchen. She looked tired and irritable. “I told you you’d regret it,” Louis said, referring to Lottie staying up late, earning himself a glare as he sat down in one of the chairs.

Harry copied his moves, also grabbing the paper bags and putting them on the table. “You didn’t sleep well?” He asked Lottie, who reached into one of the bags.

”No, she stayed up till late, didn’t you, Lots?” Louis said, enjoying annoying his sister a little too much.

”It wasn’t that late,” Lottie mumbled as she bit into her chocolate croissant. “And I’m not even tired."

”I’m sure you're not,” Harry said with a small amused smile when Lottie let out a big yawn. Louis chuckled, shaking his head and getting up from his chair again. He grabbed the milk from the fridge, putting it down on the table right as the twins walked in. It made him stop dead in his tracks.

"What--nobody fell?" He asked. Phoebe shrugged, sitting down at the table. Daisy followed suit.

"No," she said, before smiling at Harry. "Hi, Harry."

Harry smiled at her, afterwards turning to Louis with a confused look. Louis couldn't really answer, because all that his mind could throw at him was  _oh my God they're growing up_. 

It was then that Félicité walked into the living room, smiling brightly and running over to Harry when she spotted him. "Hazza!" she excitedly said, hugging him tightly and making Harry laugh.

"Hi, Fiz," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah! I dreamed that I was flying on an elephant!" Félicité said, more energetic than Louis had ever seen her in any morning, ever. Harry didn't seem to mind her excitement and listened to her detailed description of her bubblegum pink elephant with golden fairy wings.

After a breakfast that was way too long, Louis realised that he was too busy fonding over Harry to have prepared lunch for him and the girls. "Shoot," he said, jumping up and quickly gathering all the plates and cups. "Girls, go brush your teeth. First one done gets to pick their lunch first."

"You say that every morning but our lunch is always the same," Lottie grumbled, getting up from her seat and following her sisters up the stairs.

Louis pulled a face as he looked through the cabinets and the fridge. "I think it'll differ enough today," he mumbled. There was hardly anything for him to make lunch with, meaning that he had to improvise and create some very different things. 

"We can stop by the bakery if you want?" Harry suggested, noticing Louis' distress.

Louis' facial expression only deepened due to his words. "So you can buy us breakfast _and_ lunch? Not happening, sugar daddy."

"It's lunch, Louis, not a diamond ring," Harry said, before blushing intensely. "And I'm not a sugar daddy."

Louis sighed, groaning afterwards. "Okay, fine, whatever," he said, getting to his feet and pointing a finger at Harry. "But you're not spending any money on us for like, a month, got it?"

A bright grin made its way onto Harry's face. He leaned in, promptly kissing Louis, who made a sound of surprise. Before he could kiss back, Harry pulled away. "If we want to be on time we have to leave now."

By rolling his eyes, Louis hoped that his boyfriend could see how much disdain he had for his words. Harry replied by squeezing his hip. Louis didn't squeal-- _he didn't_ \--and then rushed up the stairs because he could not listen to Harrys' laughter at his squeal that he did _not_ let out.

"Girls, let's go! We're picking up lunch on the way!" Louis said as he walked into his room. He grabbed his bag and sweater, only to pause when he remembered that he didn't need his sweater anymore.

Dropping the item of clothing back onto his bed, he walked over to his closet and took out his coat, putting it on carefully as though it would dissolve into dust if he wasn't careful enough. He looked into the mirror, surprised by both the fit and the way it looked on him. If Louis was honest, he thought he looked pretty good. Harry seemed to think the same thing by the look on his face when he saw Louis come down the stairs. 

Louis purposely nudged his shoulder as he walked by. "You can drool over me later, babe, we don't want to be late."

He pretended not to hear Harry whispering 'babe' with a fond smile, not realising Louis had been using sarcasm because Louis honestly just didn't have the heart to tell him that he secretly hated the nickname 'babe'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don’t want to know how many Elounor photos I had to go through in order to find a good jacket I feel violated and gross.


	16. Chapter XVI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. My grandpapa passed away right around the time I was supposed to update, so my mind has kind of been all over the place because of that. Again, I’m really sorry, even more so if this chapter isn’t very well written due to my lack of concentration.

There wasn't enough room in the car, but that didn't stop Louis from forcing everyone in it. He sat at the front beside Harry with Félicité on his lap, the twins and Lottie in the back. They had gotten to the bakery with a lot of time to spare, but of course, it had taken them far too long there: by the time the girls had finally made their pick they were already running late, which was irritating Louis relentlessly (he had regretfully snapped at Harry who had been staring at a 'help wanted' sign for a second too long for Louis' liking).

After dropping his sisters off at their school, Louis sighed deeply, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. "Is it possible for stress to give you an aneurysm?" He wondered out loud, making Harry chuckle.

He reached out and patted Louis' leg comfortingly. "It was definitely eventful."

"Eventful doesn't even come close to describing my family," Louis said. "And this is just one morning."

Harry just smiled and parked the car. Before Louis could get out, he reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping Louis from leaving. "What?" he asked, furrowing his brows together.

Harry sighed, shaking his head a little before smiling carefully. "Are we, like, public?" He asked. "As in, do we keep us a secret for a little while, or...?"

And oh, yeah, Louis should've probably thought about that before he told Niall about the new developments. "Oh. Well, do you want to keep it hidden?" He awkwardly asked. His veins filled with relief when Harry shook his head. "Alright, good, because I might've already told Niall, and knowing Niall, he definitely already told the local newspaper."

Harry threw his head back in a laugh, and Louis chuckled along with him, silently fonding over him. "Alright, yeah, that sounds like Niall," Harry said after calming down, still grinning widely. "We should probably get inside. We're not that late yet."

And even though Louis would rather stay in Harry's car all day with Harry, he complied and got out, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

Their first period was history, which Louis was happy about. Mr Collins at least understood his situation, and would probably let them off easy. When Louis opened the door to the classroom, it got quiet when everyone saw them—well, apart from some sort of strangled gasp that Louis was pretty sure came from Niall.

"Mr Tomlinson, Mr Styles," Collins said, pausing with his drawing of some sort of timeline. "You're late."

"Traffic," Louis replied. The word was used as some sort of code: traffic meant that Louis was late because he had to drop off his sisters. Collins, who had come up with it, raised his eyebrows at Harry, as though to ask if Harry knew about Louis' life.

Louis just nodded. Collins motioned to the class, giving Louis what looked like a proud smile. "Alright. Sit down before I change my mind," he said, and neither Harry nor Louis hesitated to sit down in the only two empty spots: unfortunately for them, those weren't beside each other. Louis sat down beside Niall, and Harry sat down beside a dark-haired girl.

"Mate," Niall whispered to Louis the moment he sat down, earning himself Louis' attention. "You and Harry?"

Louis frowned, feigning confusion because he knew exactly what Niall was getting at. "I already told you, didn't I?"

"That is so not what I'm talking about and you know it," Niall said, cocking an eyebrow. "What were you two doing that caused you to be late?"

"We went to the bakery, that's all," Louis said. He continued when Niall gave him a suggestive look. "He offered me a ride to school, we just needed to get lunch first and drop off me sisters. Stop makin' everything about sex, alright?"

Niall snorted, quickly pressing a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter. "Jesus, okay," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "Just saying... sex is a thing in relationships."

Which Louis knew, and had thought about a couple of times already. Not that anyone could blame him for that, however: he was a teenager, it was one of the only things that were constantly on his mind. "Piss off," he said to Niall, a little too loudly, because Mr Collins turned to him with an annoyed look.

"Mr Tomlinson, just because I let you into my class late doesn't mean you can freely disturb the lesson," he pointedly said, raising his eyebrows. "Another sound and you'll be spending your afternoon in detention, understood?"

"Loud and clear," Louis mumbled, sending a glare to Niall who was almost under the table with quiet laughter. "Dickhead."

Niall meant to hit Louis’ shoulder, but his laughter made him miss and instead hit the chair Louis was sitting in. He made a pained sound that Louis considered a squeal, causing Louis to laugh and earn themselves a warning look from Collins.

Louis had a pretty radical best friend.

❈

During lunch, Louis found Harry waiting for him by his locker and pretended not to feel his heart flutter when Harry’s expression brightened upon spotting him.

”Hey,” Harry said when Louis reached him. He didn’t kiss him this time, which Louis was secretly grateful for: he did not want to be that couple.

”Waiting for me at my locker?” He asked with a small grin. “How romantic.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, blushing a little. “I had a free period,” he mumbled, looking sheepish. “Had the time to come over here, thought you’d like it.”

”I do like it,” Louis said, reassuring him while feeling amused at Harry’s reaction as he swapped his books for his next classes. “Thank you.”

Harry smiled, and Louis got that feeling in his stomach which he was positive only Harry could give him. “Yeah, of course,” Harry said. “Ready to face the music?”

Confusion filled Louis before he understood what Harry was talking about. Zayn and Liam. They probably found out about him and Harry via Niall.

”Shit, yeah, I almost forgot,” Louis said, lying a bit because he had definitely forgotten. “Sure, let’s go.”

Slamming his locker close, he and Harry made their way towards the cafeteria. He wanted to grab Harry’s hand but decided against it because he didn’t exactly want to be too open with their new relationship at school in case they weren’t going to work out (God forbid they won’t). So instead of grabbing his hand, Louis purposely brushed the back of his hand against Harry’s and pretended like it was accidental. By the look of Harry’s grin, it was pretty obvious that he was aware of what Louis was doing.

When they sat down at their usual table, the other three were already there. There was a tense silence for a couple of seconds (in which Zayn and Liam were staring at them intently) before Louis sighed and gave the couple a look. “Alright, let’s have it, then.”

”What the fuck in the fuck,” Zayn said, delicate as ever. “You two start dating and we find out via Niall? Niall?”

Niall raised his hand like he was in class. “I take offence to that.”

“What Zayn is trying to say, is congrats,” Liam said, always the one to even out the scales when it came to Zayn’s behaviour. “It took you long enough, though.”

“Rome wasn't built in a day,” Harry pointed out, sipping from his water bottle.

“Neither was Louis’ confidence in askin’ you out,” Zayn said, taking a jab at Louis who pulled an offended face.

”Oi, that was uncalled for and completely inaccurate, by the way,” he said, picking a chocolate chip out of his muffin and tossing it into Zayn’s face.

Liam quickly stopped Zayn who was uncapping his sports drink to toss at Louis and gave the two of them a warning look. “You’re being childish.”

”And you ain’t our mum,” Zayn said, trying to sound annoyed but sounding too fond to really succeed.

Niall suddenly cleared his throat, looking guilty about something. “I’ve got a confession to make.”

Everybody looked at him in anticipation.

”I might have a done a thing,” Niall said, looking conflicted. “If it’s good or bad is for you lot to decide. I mean, it can totally be good, you know, but it can also—“

”Get to the point,” Zayn interrupted, starting to get impatient.

”I entered us into the school’s contest,” Niall blurted out, his own eyes widening as though it was news to him as well.

”You what?” Louis dumbly asked.

”The deadline was two days ago, I didn’t really have a choice,” Niall said, which caused Louis to get deeply annoyed.

”Not a choice?” He said with a clenched jaw. “You could’ve checked with us first. Ask us if we even wanted to do this? Fuck’s sake, Niall.”

”Easy,” Harry whispered to him, which only worked a little, but enough for Louis to unclench his jaw.

”Don’t we, like, need a name to enter?” Liam asked, the most adult one at the table like he always was.

Niall shook his head, sending Louis a nervous glance. “I just wrote down our names. If we make it past auditions we need to come up with one, though.”

Louis sighed deeply, rubbing his temples and then hiding his eyes behind his hands and leaning on them simultaneously. “When are these bleedin’ auditions, then?”

”...in two weeks,” Niall awkwardly said.

Louis moved his hands away abruptly. “Two weeks?!” He exclaimed, earning himself some looks from a nearby table that he completely ignored. “You want us to rehearse a song and figure out the vocals in two weeks?”

Niall shrugged, clearly not knowing how to handle the situation at hand. Zayn let out an impressed whistle, shaking his head. “That’s going to be a tight spot, mate.”

”Tight spot?” Louis interrupted, chuckling humourlessly in disbelief. “I haven’t got the time for this. I hardly got the time for homework, let alone a stupid contest that we’re never going to win.”

”Don’t say that, we stand a chance just as much as everyone else,” Harry said, putting his hand on Louis’ knee.

Louis gave him a look. “Harry, love, we’ve never sung together before—I can’t even sing, Jesus—and half of us don’t even play instruments.”

Niall mouthed ‘love’ to Zayn, who grinned and nodded.

It snapped something in Louis, who abruptly stood up and grabbed his bag, forgetting all about his muffin and Harry’s hand on his knee that had now slid off. “I’m going to have a smoke. You lot figure this contest bullshit out on your own, yeah?”

He kissed Harry’s cheek before leaving the cafeteria. There were some other people smoking just outside the school’s grounds, but Louis didn’t feel like joining them and crossed the street instead, entering the small park across the school and sitting down on a bench.

A dove landed nearby as Louis lit his cigarette, watching him with curious eyes. Louis kicked a pebble to the animal, muttering a “piss off,” as the dove flew away again. The dove cooed as it flew off, which to Louis sounded like a well-deserved fuck you directed to him.

After a couple of minutes, Louis wasn’t sure how many, Harry entered the park too. He frowned when he spotted Louis, and walked over. Dropping his bag on the grass, he sat down next to Louis and leaned his head on Louis’ shoulder.

”You shouldn’t smoke.”

”I shouldn’t.”

❈

It was two days later, and Louis was rejected at all three jobs he had applied to.

After finishing his shift at the library, Louis felt too bummed to go home and decided to go to Harry’s place. He had called and texted, but after he didn’t get a reply he had just started walking.

On his way to his boyfriend’s house—he didn’t think he could ever get sick of using the word boyfriend—Louis realised how far Harry actually lived on the edge of their town.

It was a long-ass walk.

During the walk, Louis thought about places where he could work, that stupid contest Niall had forced him into, quitting school to get a proper, full-time job and then immediately getting rid of that last thought because Harry would probably dump or kill him if he did that. He wasn’t really sure which was worse, getting killed by his boyfriend or having Harry as an ex (he just got Harry, no way was he going to lose him now).

By the time Louis got to Harry’s house (he took about five wrong turns because he was too busy dreaming about the different lives in the houses around him) he was completely freezing, his teeth chattering and fingers numb. He hesitated with ringing the doorbell because Harry still hadn’t called him back so maybe he was busy, but then he reminded himself that it was going to take him another half hour to get home, granted he didn’t take a wrong turn, and that was enough for him to ring the doorbell.

Instead of Harry, a slightly overweight, olive-skinned woman opened the door. She was wearing an apron and had the front part of her hair tied back.

“Uh, hi, I’m here for Harry?” Louis awkwardly said, unsure of what exactly to do or say.

“He’s upstairs,” the woman said in an accent that Louis assumed was Bosnian or Croatian.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he answered, stepping into the foyer and closing the front door behind him. The woman sent him a tightlipped smile and then disappeared through a door towards, what Louis assumed, the main living area.

He stood around awkwardly for a couple of seconds, still a little uncomfortable in Harry’s house and thus unsure of what to do with his coat. He decided to hang it up and take off his shoes when he noticed a mop drying in the corner—whoever the woman was must’ve probably just finished cleaning the house. Louis didn’t want to be disrespectful and dirty the house, so he brought his shoes with him up the stairs.

When he reached the top of the stairs he wanted to go to Harry’s room where he assumed Harry was but stopped in his tracks when he heard the sound of a [piano](https://open.spotify.com/track/0MVeLASrPyBrC6hwwhIMwu?si=LQU7XjbNQRKt5YbKr1RY1w) softly through the hall. Louis crept towards the sound that came from an opened door, his socked feet light on the hardwood floor. He was careful where he put them, making sure that he didn’t make a sound in case Harry would stop playing. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, that much Louis understood, so messing up now would probably mean he never got to hear Harry play. So, careful steps.

He nearly tripped when he heard what had to be Harry’s voice gently starting to sing. “Now I know the girl I should’ve known, now I feel the love I should’ve shown.”

His voice was a little husky and a bit higher than his usual tone of speech. It was warm and almost relaxed in a way, and Louis quickly came to the conclusion that Harry was a baritone.

“And I know, you don’t love me so, but please say... it once before I go.”

He started doubting that conclusion when Harry hit the chorus and hit some serious high notes with a deeply emotional voice that had Louis speechless and a little choked up.

From where he was standing at the entrance of the door, Harry was on the left side of the room behind a black, polished piano which looked new, but the slightly discoloured white keys gave away that the piano had been used plenty of times. Harry was mostly with his back to Louis, but Louis could make out most of the side of his face and was floored by the emotion in it. His eyes were closed and his brows furrowed, his expression filled with a type of pain that Louis hoped never to put there in the future.

Harry didn’t finish the rest of the song, stopping after the chorus. “Even if it’s a lie. Even if it’s a lie.”

He cleared his throat, pressing a few random keys and clearly preparing himself to start over. Louis prevented him from doing that by knocking on the doorframe.

Harry turned around with a fairly calm expression, but it fell when he saw Louis and not the cleaning lady he had most likely been expecting. “Louis.”

”Hey, Haz,” Louis said, grabbing his elbow with his other hand, feeling a little uncomfortable under Harry’s stare.

“You... did you, like... hear me?” Harry asked, nervously rubbing his palms on his black skinny jeans (then again, when did he wear coloured ones?).

Louis nodded awkwardly. “I did, yeah. You know, I didn’t really know whether to believe Liam when he said you could sing, but...” he closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “You’re fuckin’ incredible.”

And when he opened his eyes again he found Harry with deep red cheeks and a small smile. “Thank you, Lou,” he said, and Louis ought that moment the best one to drop his shoes on the floor, march over to his boyfriend who was still sitting by the piano and promptly kiss him.

Harry made a sound of surprise, grabbing his hips instinctively. Louis pulled away again after a couple of seconds. “You’re genuinely amazing,” he said, climbing onto Harry’s lap so that he was straddling him, simply because Harry was his boyfriend and he was allowed to do that stuff now. Harry surely didn’t seem to mind. “You’re sweet and charming and kind and fit as fuck and now you can sing too?”

”What are you saying?” Harry asked with a shy smile, one hand slipping under Louis’ shirt to rest on the skin on his lower back. The other hand was on his hip, squeezing it gently.

”That I’m one hell of a lucky bloke,” Louis mumbled, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s cheekbone before kissing him again, this time deeper and less urgent.

He cupped Harry’s cheek to make sure he wasn’t going to move away anytime soon and tilted his own head a little for a better angle. His heart was thrumming violently fast in his chest, the taste of Harry’s lips tantalising his senses and his head an absolute throbbing mess. His skin was burning hot all over.

After a little while, he decided he would swipe his tongue over the seam of Harry's mouth so that he opened it up and allowed Louis’ tongue inside. Their tongues slid together as they kissed, which urged Louis to smirk into it, sucking lightly on Harry's tongue and biting on his lower lip into the kiss. He lost that particular advantage, however, when Harry unceremoniously squeezed his bum.

It made him giggle against Harry’s lips, but Harry seemed to have different plans than just ending the kiss and attached his lips to Louis’ neck, kissing it up and down. Louis inhaled sharply at the sudden shift in action, tangling his hands into Harry’s curls and tugging them gently.

When Harry sucked on his collarbone and definitely created a bruise as a result, Louis failed at keeping in a small moan. Harry lifted his head with a smug smile, to which Louis rolled his eyes, mumbled a small “shut up,” and kissed him again.

It was just lazy tongue-on-tongue action from there on out, which led to simple kissing, which in turn became light kisses pressed to each other’s lips in quick succession.

”Did you have dinner yet?” Harry asked softly, nudging his nose against Louis’ after their make-out had come to a full stop.

Louis made a disagreeing sound. “Not yet,” he said in an equally soft tone.

”I already ate, but I think Nina left some leftovers—you know, the woman who let you in?”

”Is she, like, your cleaning lady or whatever?”

”Housekeeper, but yes.”

”Didn’t I say whatever?” Louis pointedly said, kissing the spot between Harry’s eyebrows.

Harry smiled brightly and kissed Louis’ nose before gently pushing him off. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

”Do you enjoy taking care of me or something?” Louis playfully said as he followed Harry out of the music room to the kitchen.

”Don’t know if I enjoy it so much, but I do know that I’m your boyfriend and that it’s my job now,” Harry said, smiling brightly and not looking too burdened with the idea of taking care of Louis. “Do you like that word as much as I do?”

And yes, Louis definitely liked the word boyfriend as much as his boyfriend did.


	17. Chapter XVII.

Louis didn't know what white truffle was, but it suited spaghetti carbonara perfectly. He and Harry were perched on the couch after grabbing some food for Louis, watching a show on the telly in Harry's huge living room. Louis was leaning against the armrest of the couch, his legs stretched out over Harry's lap. Nina went home shortly after Louis arrived, kissing Harry's cheek and pinching it afterwards and calling him an ' _anđeo_ ', which Harry later explained was Bosnian for 'angel'.

"Who's that?" Louis asked as he took another bite. 

Harry gave him a look. "That's Alison," he said, sounding a little frustrated, but mostly amused.

"Oh, the bitch?" Louis said, and Harry nodded in confirmation before chuckling.

"How have you never seen Pretty Little Liars?" he asked, putting a hand on Louis' shin and drawing circles with his thumb. "It's like, the epitome of teen drama."

Louis shrugged; taking another bite that was a little too big. "Neffer hath the fime," he said, swallowing his overly sized bite of spaghetti and ignoring Harry's silent laughter. "And I don't have Netflix or anythin' to watch, so."

"Oh, right, yeah, sorry," Harry awkwardly said, pausing with the movement of his thumb.

"Whatever," Louis said, nudging his leg up. "Continue doing that."

Harry complied and continued rubbing his thumb over Louis' shin. Louis was done with his food ten minutes later but was too engrossed in the show they were watching on the telly to put his plate on the coffee table. That concentration started faltering when Harry put more pressure and started moving his entire hand instead of just his thumb.

It had an…  _effect_  on Louis, who tensed up under Harry's touch. Harry seemed oblivious and started moving his hand up and down Louis' shin, putting a little more pressure which really put Louis in a situation. "Uh, Haz," he said, unsure if Harry meant for him to get a hard-on or if he was just really that oblivious about the current circumstances.

Harry turned his gaze to him with an inquisitive look. "Yeah?"

"You might want to... you know..." Louis said, biting his lip and nodding to the hand that was  _still_ rubbing his shin.

Harry looked confused for a second, before glancing down to Louis' lap and getting a look of realisation. "Oh," he said, abruptly stopping his hand.

"Yeah," Louis awkwardly said. They looked at each other for a few moments before Harry pointedly moved his hand up Louis' leg towards his thigh, and Louis promptly forgot about his dirty plate, which he dropped onto the rug under the couch in a haste to get to Harry. 

Their lips crashed together in a fervent kiss, Harry letting himself drop onto his back so that Louis could climb over him. Their kiss was hungry and intense, making Louis tingle all over and turning his head into a fuzzy mess. 

Harry's hands travelled up and down Louis' back, each time a little lower which just made Louis excited in ways he wasn't exactly used to. He tangled one hand in Harry's curls and tugged at them lightly, his other hand travelling lower over Harry's chest and then under his shirt. Harry got the hint and took off his shirt before quickly reattaching his lips to Louis'. Louis had to break it again in order to take off his own shirt, but that break thankfully didn’t last too long.

There was something very unexplainable about being able to kiss Harry’s neck and to hear him sharply inhale every time Louis grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin. Harry let out a particular loud gasp when Louis nipped at the corner of his jawline, which was now adorned with a slowly darkening love bite.

Something changed, however, when Louis’ hand started fumbling with the button on Harry’s skinny jeans. “Wait, wait,” Harry said, pushing Louis back a little.

“What?” he asked, breathless.

“I, uh…” Harry stammered, sitting up a little straighter. “I thought I was, but I... I'm not ready for… _that_ , you know?”

Louis’ eyebrows shot up as he sat up himself, leaning back on Harry’ thighs. “Oh,” he said, feeling a little disappointed, which Harry immediately picked up on, bless him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, scrambling to sit up which caused Louis to slide forward until they were pretty much pressed together again. “I led you on, didn't I? If you want to then we can totally—“

“No,” Louis quickly interrupted, shaking his head and attempting to ignore his hard-on that was still painstakingly noticeable. “No. Consent from both parties, remember? If one of us says no, it’s not happening.” He bit his lip and put one hand on Harry’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over his lips. “Besides, I don’t know how this works anyway. I’ve never even been with a girl, let alone a guy—especially a guy like you.”

Harry blushed and pecked his lips with a smile. “Well, that’s good, ‘cause I’m pretty clueless about this too.”

It brought a smile to Louis’ face because somehow, knowing that they were both virgins made everything a little better.

“So, like, if we both don’t know how this works, how are we going to figure it out?” Harry asked, and Louis sighed deeply, feigning integrity.

“Well,” he said, looking into Harry’s eyes with a serious look. “Lots and lots of porn.”

Harry burst out laughing, resting his forehead on a giggling Louis’ shoulder. “You’re shameless,” he said, lifting his head again and promptly kissing Louis.

He kissed back immediately, putting one hand behind Harry’s neck. The kiss was a little hindered due to both their smiles, but those quickly disappeared because making out was their top priority at the moment.

That priority, however, was completely ruined when the front door banged shut. Louis and Harry pulled apart simultaneously, giving each other wide eyes. “That’s my mum,” Harry hissed in surprise.

“So you do have a mum?” Louis asked, because he had never even seen Harry’s mother and had started doubting her existence a little, if he was completely honest.

“Louis, what the fuck, even?” Harry asked, but grinned widely as they both scrambled for their t-shirts and Harry quickly put the previously forgotten plate on the coffee table. The clicking of heels on the wooden floor slowly got closer, which urged Harry and Louis to sit in the most vanilla cuddling style they could come up with: Harry leaning into Louis’ side, with Louis’ arm around his shoulder.

Right as Harry’s mum entered the room, Louis remembered the issue in his pants and grabbed a pillow to put over it: he didn't think it'd make for such a good first impression.

“Harry, sweetheart, are—“ a female voice said, but abruptly cut off. Louis and Harry glanced over their shoulders with innocent looks.

“Oh, hey, mum,” Harry said, and Louis sent her a polite smile and a nod. It was clear that Harry got his amazing good looks from his mother: she was a beautiful woman, with long, dark brown hair and features like Harry’s: their noses, mouths and eyebrows were the same, nearly identical. The only thing that Harry seemed to have from his dad was his eyes, as his mothers were a deep blue instead of the emerald green Louis adored so much.

“Who’s this?” she asked, smiling at Louis politely, who quickly reached out a hand.

“My name’s Louis,” he said, suddenly painfully aware of his accent which stuck out like a sore thumb against the posh accent that both Harry and his mother possessed. “I’m, uh,” he glanced at Harry. “Harry’s boyfriend.”

“You can call me Anne,” Harry’s mum said, shaking Louis’ hand with a bright smile. “And, Harry, a boyfriend? How come I don’t know about this?”

Harry shrugged, turning back to the telly and grabbing Louis’ arm to put it back around his shoulder. “’Cause you’re never home.”

Which was such a remarkable way to make the entire situation awkward (as though meeting your boyfriend’s parent for the first time while sporting a boner wasn’t awkward enough already).

“Well, I have to work,” Anne replied, and then sat down beside Louis who wanted to sink through the couch into an early grave because of the tense atmosphere, especially when Harry linked his hand with Louis’ that was around his shoulders. “What about you, Louis? Do you work?”

“I do, yeah,” Louis answered, nodding and trying to act natural. “I work two jobs, actually.”

Anne’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Busy boy,” she said, and Louis saw some respect in her eyes, which he supposed was a good thing and made him relax a little.

That relaxation, however, disappeared promptly when Harry turned his head and kissed Louis’ neck. “Mum, do you mind?” he asked pointedly.

Anne sighed softly but kept a smile. “I’m just trying to get to know Louis, sweetheart,” she said and patted Louis’ arm. “Tell me, Louis, do you have any hobbies?”

“Oh, my God,” Harry loudly said, standing up and grabbing Louis’ arm to pull him up.

“Haz, what are you doing?” Louis asked, but Harry didn’t answer and simply pulled him along. Anne stood up but didn’t follow them.

“Harry, don't you dare walk away from me!” she called after them, which made Harry pause. He looked at Louis with begging eyes, and Louis got the hint instantly.

“I’ll wait upstairs,” he said before Harry could ask him, aware of the situation and wanting nothing more than to _not_ be a part of it. Harry gave him a tight-lipped smile and then walked back over to Anne. Louis didn’t wait around to watch whatever argument was about to go down, so he went upstairs quickly.

Even all the way to Harry’s room with a closed door, Louis could hear the muffled shouting coming from downstairs. He sat down on the foot of Harry's bed and fidgeted with the corner of the throw on top.

Eventually, after a few long and stressful minutes on Louis' side, the door to Harry's bedroom slammed open and Harry stomped into the room, closing the door aggressively and rubbing his suspiciously red eyes that made Louis' chest ache.

It was quiet for a few moments. “Your mum seems alright,” Louis then carefully said, regretting his words right after.

Harry scoffed, angry in a way Louis had never seen with him before. “Keyword being ‘seems’.”

“I’m serious,” Louis said, shuffling a little on the bed. “She seemed genuinely interested about me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she probably heard something in your voice when you were talking and thinks you’re a fucking musical prodigy with a good voice now,” he said, starting to pace around the room. Louis didn't point out that it was a rather rude thing to say. “She’s manipulative! She probably asked about your hobbies to find out about your piano talents, and then she'll ask if you ever thought about making a career out of that. Then she’ll ask if you can sing, and if you ever wanted to make a career out of _that_ , because—“ he laughed humourlessly— “she knows some great vocal coaches that can help if needed! In her eyes, people aren’t people, they’re walking ATMs!”

He looked at Louis; breathing heavily and finally stopping his pacing in the middle of the room. Louis didn’t say anything for a few moments, too stunned to be able to come up with anything to say.

“Do you want me to leave?” he eventually said, and Harry looked at him for a couple of moments, an agonising silence between the two of them that seemed to drag on forever.

"Don't think I would be able to handle not being with you right now," he eventually said, and Louis flew off the bed to engulf him in a tight hug, suddenly overcome with a desire to keep Harry safe.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, running his hand through the mop of curls on Harry's head.

"For what?" Harry asked, tightening his strong arms around Louis, who gave a small shrug in reply.

"That both our parents suck," he said, feeling Harry smile against his neck. "And, like, having to see you sad, that really fucking sucks too."

After a few more quiet seconds, Harry pulled away from the hug to look Louis into his eyes. "Would you say no if I asked to go to your place?"

Louis beamed, proud at the fact that Harry felt so comfortable in his house, and nodded. "Let's go, love," he said, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him out of the room, more than happy to help him out of the bad mood he was presumably now in. 

He remembered to grab his shoes from the music room on their way downstairs and was thankful that they didn't run into Anne on their way out, as that would have just called for another very uncomfortable moment that Louis just really wasn't up for.

"You know you look really gorgeous in that coat?" Harry said to Louis as they climbed into Harry's car.

"Thank you, the guy who picked it out for me has very good taste in clothes, it seems," Louis replied with a grin, his cheeks tinting a light pink from the compliment. 

Harry talked as he pulled out of the driveway, and it seemed that his bad mood had completely disappeared, much to Louis' satisfaction. "The guy must be pretty brilliant then, huh?"

Louis smiled as he looked out the window. "The very best," he softly said, more to himself than to Harry, even though the latter picked up on it anyway and squeezed Louis' thigh in response. The drive to Louis' house was silent, but not uncomfortable in any way. It just reminded Louis of how special his relationship with Harry really was, platonically and romantically.

When they walked inside, Louis' household was filled with the usual noise: loud yelling and the sound of the tv.

”Louis!” Two voices shouted in unison, and a couple of seconds later the twins ran into the hallway, only to pause at the sight of Harry. "Harry?" they said, yet again, in unison.

"Hey," Harry said with a big smile as he took off his coat. "What are you two up to, huh?"

"Watching Sesame Street," Daisy said, smiling at Harry and grabbing his hand. "Come watch with us!"

Louis watched with a small smile as Phoebe trailed after them with an equally ecstatic mood. He loved how much his family adored Harry (not as much as Louis adored Harry, but still). When Louis walked inside he found Harry on the couch with a puzzled expression, Phoebe and Daisy sitting on his lap, one girl each a leg—which reminded Louis how physically strong Harry was.

His sisters hadn't lied: they were watching Sesame Street on the telly, an array of legos and dolls on the coffee table and the floor, which made for a messy scene. Louis was used to the mess, but it was seriously worse than usual, meaning that his mum hadn't cleaned up yet. He ruffled the twins' hair which earned him some annoyed whines that made Louis grin and then turned around to find Lottie sitting at the dinner table.

"Hey Lots," he said, looking over her shoulder to see what she was doing. She was drawing. "Where's mum?"

"Don't know," Lottie replied, kissing his cheek sweetly. "She hasn't been home all day. We haven't even had dinner yet."

This made Louis frown. "What'd'you mean?"

Lottie shrugged. "Like I said, we haven't eaten yet."

When Louis checked the time on his phone he saw that it was nearly eight pm, and the twins had to go to bed before half-past eight. "Damnit," Louis groaned out, walking into the kitchen and calling his mother.

She didn't pick up, which only made Louis angrier. He yanked the fridge open, finding not enough food to make a dinner out of for one person, let alone four. "Fuck me," he muttered, closing the fridge door again. He remembered the tubs of ice cream that he was keeping for Friday to surprise his sisters (and because the buckets that the ice cream was in were a convenient thing to have on hand). It seemed that it was the only option, as cereal was needed for breakfast tomorrow, and they didn't have any money for takeout--there was no way he was going to tell Harry that, he would probably order for them.

He grabbed the two tubs of vanilla and chocolate ice cream, a couple of spoons and walked into the living room again. "Alright, dinner," he said, putting the two tubs on the table and tossed the spoons beside it. 

Both Lottie and Harry gave him odd looks, but Louis ignored it as he walked to the stairs. "Fiz! Dinner!" he shouted, and Harry walked in right after.

"Ice cream for dinner?" he asked in a low voice, cocking an eyebrow. "Not really healthy, is it?"

"Don't have a choice--Fiz! I'm not asking again!" Louis yelled, getting abnormally impatient. 

"Wow, hey, easy," Harry said, putting a hand on Louis' arm. "What's going on with the mood shift?"

Louis opened his mouth to answer, but Félicité walked downstairs before he could. "Hazza!" she excitedly said, jumping into his arms before she was even completely down the stairs.

Harry caught her easily. "Hey, sweetheart!" he said, which somehow tugged at Louis' heartstrings. "How about you go inside? I'll be right there, yeah?"

"Okay!" Félicité immediately agreed, and let herself be put down by Harry before running into the living room. Louis could faintly hear her say "Ice cream!"

Harry looked at him again with raised eyebrows, waiting for an explanation for Louis' sudden bad mood. Louis sighed. "It's a Wednesday, and my mum always does Wednesdays," he said. "You know, take care of the girls and all that. The rest of the week, even the bloody weekends, I take care of them and she can do fuck all. Wednesdays are the only days she has to be a mum, and she can't even do that."

Harry had a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry, Lou," he said. "But I'm sure Jay has a good reason not to be home?"

Louis scoffed. "She always does, doesn't she?" he sarcastically said and attempted to walk into the living room, but was pulled back by Harry who pushed him against the wall and promptly kissed him. It lasted for a few seconds, but Louis was still breathless when they pulled apart; his bad mood had also vanished in an instant. "What was that for?"

"It's the only way I can get you to listen to me," Harry said, and Louis grinned at that because  _busted_. With Harry pushing him against the wall, Louis realised that he had gotten taller: their noses were no longer at the same height. "Listen, Lou, I get that you're angry, but you need to talk to your mum if you want her to start understanding. You always keep everything to yourself, but she can't help if she doesn't know what's bothering you."

Louis sighed, playing with the hem of Harry's shirt. "She's a mother. She's supposed to know to take care of her daughters."

"And son," Harry added. He put a hand on Louis' cheek, looking at his lips, his nose, his eyes, his cheeks: everything his eyes could find. "She's supposed to take care of you too."

It made Louis smile and kiss Harry again. "Why do you have to be so fucking incredible all the time?"

Harry grinned. "Right back at you," he said, nudging their noses together. "I'm serious, though. Talk to Jay. You keep too much to yourself."

And Louis knew he had a rather astounding boyfriend.


	18. Chapter XVIII.

Turns out that ice cream for dinner was a pretty good decision. It put Louis' sisters in a good mood and made it easier for Louis to put them to bed. After they had all said goodnight to Harry, Louis had sent them upstairs and they had gone to sleep without so much as a hitch of breath.

Louis and Harry had made camp on the couch. Around eleven pm, Harry had begrudgingly mumbled about having to go home, and Louis had immediately asked if he wanted to stay over for the night. It went without saying that Harry had agreed, and he was now fast asleep with his head on Louis' lap, his legs stretched out over the couch but because they were just a little too long for it, his feet dangled over the edge. Louis combed his fingers through Harry's curls, lightly massaging his scalp and earning himself a few satisfied hums from a sleeping Harry.

A little after midnight, the front door opened and Jay walked into the living room. Louis quickly hushed her when she went to talk, nodding to a sleeping Harry on his lap. "Oh," Jay whispered, looking surprised at the sight in front of her. Then Louis remembered he hadn't yet told her about his new relationship with Harry.

"Where were you, mum?" Louis asked, vaguely registering that it should be the other way around and that Jay should be the one scolding _him_.

She smiled and sat down beside Louis, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I can't tell you yet, sweetheart," she said. "I'll tell you when it makes more sense to me as well, okay?"

Louis bit his lip before nodding. "Okay," he said, not entirely happy with her answer and not really wanting to let her down so easily, but he realised that it was no use arguing with her. "Just—call me next time or something? You know, let me know that the girls are alone so that they can eat."

"I'm sorry, you're right," Jay said, rubbing his arm and looking a little guilty, but not guilty enough for Louis’ liking, not by far. "I know Wednesdays are mine." She took a deep breath, standing up again and unwinding her scarf. "You should go to bed. It's almost one am, you've got school tomorrow."

"Harry's staying over," Louis simply said, and Jay nodded.

"I already got that," she said, watching with a small smile as Louis woke Harry up by softly talking to him and kissing his forehead.

Harry woke up after a couple of seconds. "What time's it?" he slurred, making Louis smile in amusement.

"Late," he said. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

With a wide yawn, Harry stood up, smiling at Jay when he spotted her. "Hey, Jay."

"Hi, sweetheart," she replied with an amused smile. She sent Louis an approving look as he walked up the stairs with Harry, and Louis gave her a glare in reply, to which she chuckled.

It took exactly twenty minutes for Louis to convince Harry not to sleep in his normal clothes. When they tried to find a shirt for Harry to sleep in, they found out that Harry didn't fit any of the clothes in Louis' closet (which made Louis realise that Harry was much more athletic than him, which was pretty depressing, considering he was younger than Louis).

Eventually, they settled on Harry just sleeping in his underwear. By the time Louis had changed into a t-shirt and joggers to sleep in, Harry was already passed out, not even under the covers. Before Louis joined him, he opened his window to have a quick smoke.

He knew that he was smoking a lot. He had often said that he wasn't going to be one of those smokers who did it five times a day, yet here he was, smoking his fourth cigarette of that day so far. It wasn't for that euphoric feeling anymore, now it served to calm him down and prevent headaches which he got because he hadn't smoked in a couple of hours. He knew it did more damage than it helped, but there wasn't much for him to do. He was addicted now, he could admit that, and it was too bad, but what was done was done.

It was what it was.

That was the first time Louis thought about getting a tattoo.

"Lou?" a voice suddenly mumbled tiredly, making Louis jolt in surprise and quickly press out his cigarette. Harry was leaning on his arms and frowning at the cigarette that was now tossed onto the roof. "Close the window. It's freezing."

"Sure. Sorry, love," Louis said, quickly closing the window. When he turned around he found Harry with his arms outstretched towards Louis.

Louis chuckled and got the hint, walking over and letting Harry pull him into the bed. "You're such a baby, Haz," Louis mumbled with a fond smile as they got [comfortable](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e4/f1/a7/e4f1a74fcde62eb2ef3f9d61a64a9f16.jpg) on the bed, making it impossible for anyone to tell which leg and which arm belonged to who.

"You smell fucking disgusting," Harry muttered into Louis' ear, most likely referring to the tobacco air, which he could thank the cigarettes for.

Louis chuckled. "You get off on it, you loser," he replied, feeling Harry's smile on his skin. He kissed the back of Louis' neck, making Louis twist his head around so that it was turned to Harry instead of away from him.

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, when Harry opened his mouth to say something. "I..." he said, hesitating as he trailed off. He bit his lip, looking a little distressed, and Louis knew what he was trying to say, simply because he felt it too. "I, uh..."

"Me too."

❈ 

"I'm pickin' you up, no going with strangers," Louis said, straightening Félicité's hair out while the twins waited impatiently by the gate. "And you can tell your teacher to shove that tardy up her—"

"Okay!" Harry quickly interrupted before Louis could finish his sentence. It was probably for the best. "Have a good day, yeah? You two as well."

Daisy and Phoebe beamed and nodded. Félicité hugged Louis, then Harry, and then grabbed her sisters' hands and walked towards the school. Louis and Harry watched them with smiles, instantly piling into the car the moment they disappeared into the school. 

As Harry started the car, Louis suddenly sighed deeply, making him stop dead in his tracks. "What?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"I want to skip," Louis said, giving Harry a suggesting look.

"Again? he replied, urging Louis to pull a face. "We skipped last Wednesday. That's, like, a week ago."

"Eight days, actually," Louis pointed out, earning himself a look of exasperation. He huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking out the window, making sure that his knees were turned towards the window instead of towards Harry.

Harry just chuckled and started the car, driving away from the school to go on to their own. After a few minutes of childish silence, Louis heard a [song](https://open.spotify.com/track/1etiUDkISHELzQGMY79ryt?si=Le_SzITpS9CJAfvlhbsm3w) softly playing on the radio, and he discreetly reached for the sound button to turn up the volume. Harry obviously noticed. "Really? You won't talk to me for making you go get an education, but you dare to touch my radio?" he said, and Louis promptly turned the sound almost all the way up, because he was childish like that.

Harry scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, and Louis started yelling along to the lyrics, barely audible over the music. He didn’t even bother to sound good. " _It's a quarter past midnight, still avoiding tomorrow_!"

He sat up straighter to dramatically headbang to the music, simply because he could. " _We keep on running, running through a red light! Like we're trying to burn the night away, away-way, oh, away-way, oh_!" Even though he did it to irritate Harry, he was starting to enjoy himself and didn't notice Harry taking a turn onto the highway. " _Before it falls apart, oh! Help me piece it all together_!"

Harry laughed, clearly having trouble with keeping his gaze on the road with a Louis beside him acting like a complete lunatic in early morning traffic. The people in the cars around them gave them puzzled and amused looks, but neither one of the boys seemed to care much about that—at least, Louis didn't. He was there to make this the best school drive ever, and he was pretty sure he was succeeding. He knew he had won when Harry started yelling along, drumming his hands on the steering wheel as he headbanged with Louis, who was now genuinely enjoying himself. " _We keep on running, running through a red light! Like we're trying to burn the night away, away-way, oh, away-way, oh_!"

They probably looked mental, but when had Louis ever cared about that? They probably sounded even worse than they looked. " _This is my favourite part oh! Help me piece it all together, darling! Before it falls apart, oh! Help me piece it all together_!"

At one point, Louis opened the window and let the wind ruffle his and Harry's hair. He had to stop singing (yelling, really) when his own laughter got the best of him, and he instead focused on Harry who was still singing. He looked absolutely beautiful, with his hair wild from the open window, his cheeks red and his smile bright and boisterous. Even though Harry wasn't doing his best on singing, he still sounded great, which bothered Louis just a little, so he decided to do his best and put effort into his own voice, because he was a loser like that and wanted to out-do Harry just a little—he wouldn't be able to hear him over the music and his own voice anyway.

" _We keep on running, running through a red light. Like we're trying to burn the night away, away-way, oh, away-way, oh._ "

He was so engrossed in his own singing to realise that Harry had stopped and was listening with widened eyes, something like shock written all over his features. Only when the song ended did he speak, turning down the sound when a commercial about toilet paper followed the song. "You liar! You  _can_ sing!" he said. "You're a tenor!'

"Whatever that means," Louis said, trying to pretend like he wasn't immensely flustered at Harry's compliments.

"No, you don't get to just brush this off," Harry said, his eyes flickering between Louis and the road before his hand ended up on Louis' knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Why did you say you couldn't sing?"

Louis shrugged. "'Cause I can't," he said, quickly continuing when he saw Harry open his mouth to protest. "And I'm serious, okay? You just couldn't hear me properly over the music."

"Sing for me now, then," Harry said. "There's no music now. Just sing."

"No, piss off, that's embarrassing," Louis protested, shaking his head.

Harry snorted. "So you're saying that what we just did wasn't embarrassing, but singing something for ten seconds is?"

Louis didn't have an answer to that, which was entirely understandable, he figured.

"Come on, Lou. Please? If it sucks I won't bother you anymore," Harry said, sending him a sweet smile that had Louis' heart melting. "Besides, remember when you walked in on me? I didn't say you could listen in, did I? See this as a way of calling us even for that."

Fuck him, honestly, with his perfect reasoning skills.

"What would you have me sing, then?"

"Your favourite song."

"I don't have one."

"Liar."

Fuck him, honestly, with his ability to look through Louis so easily. 

Louis took a deep breath, coughing discreetly and pretending not to notice Harry's enthusiasm on hearing him sing for the first time. He closed his eyes as he started singing, but not his favourite song: just a simple one. " _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away_."

It was quiet for a few seconds, urging Louis to open his eyes carefully to find a speechless Harry. "Haz? What did you think?"

Harry blinked a few times, shaking his head a little, and Louis felt his heart sink, thinking that Harry hadn't liked it. "You're brilliant," he then said, making Louis fill with relief. "How are you so convinced that you can't sing? What the hell, you're brilliant at this."

Louis chuckled. "Thanks, love," he said. He cleared his throat, wanting nothing more than to direct the attention to something else. "So, where are you taking me? Because this obviously isn't the way to school."

Harry seemed to grasp Louis' need to divert the attention away from him, and quickly answered, sounding casual. "To a cafe I quite like."

Louis gave him a look. "What? 'Cause the cafes in our town ain't good enough?"

"No, they're fine," Harry said, glancing at Louis with a grin. "If you want to get caught skipping, that is."

It made Louis huff. "Fair enough," he said. "Which city, though? Can you at least tell me that?"

"Sheffield."

Louis crinkled his nose. "The fuck do you go to Sheffield for? Just coffee?"

Harry laughed, pinching Louis' thigh. "Give me a break," he said, and Louis smiled. "It's a fun town to go shopping in. My mum and Gems used to take me."

"What changed?" Louis asked, more than interested in Harry's stories. He also liked to stick his noses in business that wasn't his to stick it in.

"Well," Harry said, sighing softly. "They started fighting. Then Gemma took off, mum started working a lot... just wasn't really a lot of time to go there anymore."

Louis felt guilty, both for asking and for the way that things were so messed up in his family. He grabbed Harry's hand, holding it tightly and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Harry glanced at him with a smile, looking a lot happier than he did a moment ago. Louis bit his lip. "You know, I, uh... I..." he hesitated like Harry had done the night before, not sure if he should really say it yet.

"I know," Harry said, beaming, obviously understanding what Louis was struggling to say. "Me too."

❈

After Harry had parked his car, he and Louis had walked the rest of the way to the cafe he had mentioned. On their way, Harry pointed out many things, like the Hallam University that was a literal ten minutes away from the cafe, another cafe called Costa Coffee (" _The food's alright, just no good atmosphere, you know_?") and a Sainsbury's that he once tripped in when he was seven which resulted in the first time he lost a tooth. Louis had to seriously refrain from cooing at that story.

The cafe that Harry was talking about was called The Cabin and was located beside a store that sold games and game figurines, which explained why Harry loved that place so much when he was still a kid. When they walked inside, Louis couldn't suppress a small, "Jesus Christ."

To be very simple, the [cafe](https://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/0d/cd/73/8f/20161204-125536-hagrid.jpg) was a mismatched mess. If the Christmas decorations weren't eye-catching enough, the rest of the furniture inside certainly was. Everywhere Louis looked were incompatible chairs, tables and couches, each a different print and more extravagant than the other. It didn't take long for Louis to understand that this was the reason Harry loved this place so much, and not because of the game shop next door like Louis had previously assumed.

They sat down in two chairs which were incredibly contradicting in style. The one Harry sat down in was an armchair consisting out of patches of different pink shades: polka dots, stripes, baby pink, violet, white... the chair had it all. Louis chair was a lot simpler, different shades of reds and browns that complimented each other nicely. Too bad that the chairs didn't really compliment each other.

It wasn't long before they could order coffee. Harry ordered a cappuccino and Louis a latte, to which Harry muttered a small 'gay' once the waiter was gone, earning himself a kick to the shin from Louis. "So," Harry said after he was done laughing at Louis reaction. "What do you think of this place?"

"It's, uh... vibrant," Louis said. "Like, I'm getting a headache and I've only been here thirty seconds."

Harry snorted, looking at Louis with a bright smile. "We can leave if you want?" he offered, but they both knew that Louis wouldn't do that: not just because he was such a good person, but because he had been complaining about the cold the whole way they were walking to the cafe.

When their coffees arrived, Louis got one with a fern leaf pattern in the foam, and Harry a teddy bear. "Look, Lou, a bear."

Louis smiled at Harry's gleeful reaction at the sight of the bear. "That's cute." 

"Like me," Harry said with a smirk.

 _I love you_.

It shot through Louis' mind before he could stop it, taking him by surprise and almost causing him to choke on his latte. He and Harry had said it to each other nearly two times already, never finishing their sentences because the other already knew what they were saying, but to actually think it so suddenly was different. It was an involuntary response to something completely innocent and normal. It wasn't a big revelation with fireworks and blushes and sweet nothings whispered between them: it was just his heart speaking up.

There was no denying it: Louis was in love with Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cafe that Louis and Harry visited is a real place! It's really called The Cabin, in Sheffield, nearby the description in this chapter. The chairs that I described actually exist, and you can sit in them, believe it or not! The only thing made up is the fact that they went there (or is it..?).


	19. Chapter XIX.

Louis could feel Harry's eyes trained on the side of his face as he smoked. They were sitting on the hood of Harry's car, after parking it just outside of Sheffield so that they could look at the city from a small distance. They had spent nearly three hours in the coffee shop but had eventually gotten bored of drinking coffee and left (the caffeine was also starting to have an effect on them, so it was for the best that they left). Because it had only been around twelve in the afternoon they decided against going home and were now just outside of Sheffield.

Even though Harry hadn't yet said anything, Louis could tell he was judging him. He still hated the fact that Louis smoked, but he seemed to have made his peace with it in some sort of way (" _I'm an addict, Haz, I get in a shit mood if I don't smoke_."—" _If you say so_.").

They'd been sitting in silence for a while, their hands intertwined between them, because even if they were too stubborn to admit it, no bad habit could get in the way of physical affection—not even cigarettes. Even though it was freezing, neither of them wanted to sit in the car, enjoying the fresh air far more than the stuffy heat inside. 

"Why can't the flower ride his bike?" Harry suddenly asked, breaking the silence. 

Louis looked at him with a confused frown, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette. "What?"

"It's a joke," Harry said. "Come on, try to answer it. Why can't the flower ride his bike?"

_I love you_.

After pretending to think for a few seconds, Louis shrugged, bringing the cigarette to his lips. "No clue. Why?"

"Because his petals fell off," Harry said, and he was grinning so widely and looked so immensely proud that Louis couldn't help but chuckle.

"That was terrible, like, absolutely shit," he said, tossing his cigarette onto the ground and jumping off the hood to stomp it out.

Harry jumped off too. "I'd like to see you do better."

"I can totally do better," Louis said, leaning against the car. Harry stepped in front of him, biting his lip with a small smile and looking expectant. "Alright, I got it. Why did... _Niall_ throw the butter out of the window?"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't know. Why?"

"No, no, try. You have to guess it, love, that's the whole point."

A thoughtful look crossed Harry's face, and he licked his lips, quiet for a few moments before his entire face lit up. "Because he wanted to see the butterfly!"

_I love you_.

Louis was so adored by Harry's proud expression that he couldn't even be annoyed that he had solved the riddle. "Yeah," he said, putting his hands on Harry's hips and pulling their bodies flush against each other. "Now can you please kiss me?"

Harry smiled, putting a hand on Louis' cheek before leaning down and pressing their lips together. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Harry's hand rested below Louis' ear, his thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingled. Louis gripped his coat tighter, pulling him even closer. Harry's hand opened Louis' coat far enough to slip his hand inside, under Louis' shirt and on the skin of his hip. His hands were cold, but not disturbingly so. 

If anything, it brought Louis back a little, making him feel the warmth that spread through his body and the fire that lit his brain. He brought his hands to the back of Harry's neck, one sliding into his hair. He pressed his tongue to the seam of Harry's lips,  and Harry responded almost instantly, parting his lips and allowing Louis entrance. It was a very sloppy kiss with the strong scent of cigarettes and coffee being exchanged in the intermingling of their billowing breaths.

Harry pulled back far enough to look into Louis' eyes. "Are you cold?"

"Fucking freezing," Louis answered, crushing their lips together again. Harry responded easily, their tongues sliding together once more. 

Louis wanted to go further, so much further, but he knew that Harry wasn't ready for that, so he gradually slowed the kiss down, even when Harry tried to deepen and speed it up again. "Haz," Louis said, out of breath as he pulled back. "We have to stop, or else I'm going to get too worked up and I know you're not ready for that."

Harry beamed. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” he said. “And not yet.”

”Yet?” Louis asked.

”Yeah,” Harry said with a small shrug, his eyes on his hand playing with the hem of Louis’ shirt. “We’re going to do it eventually, just... not yet.”

_I love you_.

”It,” Louis said with a playful grin. “You mean we’re going to fuck?”

”Jesus,” Harry breathed out in surprise. “How are you so shameless with this stuff?”

It was a good question, really. Louis didn’t exactly have an answer for it.

Harry continued before Louis could say anything. “I bet we’re going to have the best sex in the world, though.”

Louis laughed, nodding and agreeing. “Who’s shameless now?”

Harry just shrugged again and kissed Louis’ cheek before stepping back. “Can we go in the car now?” He asked, bouncing on his feet to showcase how cold he exactly was. “I’m, like, properly freezing.”

”Yeah, me too,” Louis said, and they got in the car almost immediately. As Harry started the ignition to get some heat in the car, Louis checked the time on his phone. It was half past one. “How long’s the drive home?”

”Like 35 minutes,” Harry answered. “If we take the scenic route it’s twenty minutes longer.”

It was a unanimous decision to take the scenic route. The best thing about the drive back was they sat in complete silence, Harry’s hand on Louis’ thigh and Louis’ gaze on Harry’s face. He could look at Harry for hours on end, he genuinely could. He was stupidly pretty, it was almost unfair. 

“What time you’ve got work?” Harry asked.

”From four ‘til twelve.”

”That’s late.”

”Tell me about it.”

Harry hums a song Louis doesn’t recognise. He sounds good, which is also unfair. Louis is losing points, here. 

“You know I applied for a third job again?”

”Yeah, I remember.”

”Got rejected for all of them.”

”Shit, I’m sorry, Lou.”

Louis smiles and quickly leans over to peck his cheek. “It’s alright. Mum’s meeting Mark soon enough to discuss the divorce settlement, so we’ll have money soon enough. We’ll last for a few months longer.”

They talk about Jay and her coping with the divorce, curse at Mark together and an upcoming French test that Louis knows he’s going to flunk. Harry offered to help him study, and Louis said that they’d probably just end up making out. Harry agreed.

By the time they get back home it’s nearly three pm, because neither Harry nor Louis had a sense of direction and they ended up taking five wrong turns on the way back. 

Harry hums that same song again, and it’s starting to get on Louis’ nerves that he can't recognise it, so he quickly starts up another conversation.

”Niall’s dating someone.”

Not exactly subtle, but he’ll take it.

”Really?” Harry asked as he parks in front of the girls’ school. “What’s her name?”

”Camille,” Louis answered, propping his feet up on the dashboard. It’s probably obnoxious and rude, but Harry doesn’t say anything, so he reckons he’s in the clear. “He said she only wears chamomile perfume ‘cause she thinks it suits her name.”

Harry scoffed. “That’s a bit...”

”Yeah,” Louis agreed, not having to wait for Harry to find the right word. 

“So,” Harry said, turning his body towards Louis. “It’s almost your birthday.”

_I love you_.

”In, like, a month.”

”It’s almost your birthday,” Harry repeated, a bit louder now. “Are you going to throw a party? Or like, something like that?”

Louis would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered throwing a party. He would turn eighteen and would be completely legal, which was a pretty big deal and couldn’t exactly pass unnoticed. “I don’t exactly have the house nor the family for it.”

”Hold it at my place, then,” Harry offered, making Louis cock an eyebrow. “Please? It’s Christmas as well and Mum’s in New York again so I’ll be alone.”

Louis goes over the offer for a moment. “On one condition,” he said. “You celebrate Christmas with us.”

A blinding smile appeared on Harry’s face. “It’s a deal.”

They kiss. There wasn’t anything else to do anyway. Louis pulled back a few moments later, giving Harry a smile. “Wait in the car for me?”

After Harry nodded, Louis got out of the car and walked onto the school’s grounds to wait for his sisters. He never missed the looks he got from the mothers around him picking up their own kids. He wasn’t oblivious to the rumours going around: that Jay was an alcoholiv that forced her son to take care of his sisters, that she left them for a guy, that she negelcted her children to feed her gambling addiction... teenager could gossip, but soccer mums took the crown.

The twins saw Louis first, and Félicité followed a minute later. “Where’s Lotts?” Louis asked her.

”She said she’s hanging out with a friend,” Félicité answered. 

It annoyed Louis that he couldn’t check with Lottie. He immediately started worrying about who she was going with, where they lived, who their parents were, what time she was going to be home and how she was going to get home... he felt like a parent, but he cared for his sisters and needed them to be safe and sound at all times.

But he knew that finding Lottie inside the school could take a while, so he decided to put the others in the backseat before getting in the car himself.

”Where’s Lottie?” Harry asked.

”Hanging with a friend, apparently,” Louis answered, sounding a bit bitter which Harry picked up on with a smile and a pat on the leg.

When he was safely on the road, Louis grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together. They rested their intertwined hands between their seats. Louis was vaguely aware that his sisters could see, but he really couldn’t really get himself to care.

”Hey, Harry, did you know that slugs have four noses?” Félicité suddenly said, and Harry barely contained a laugh.

”Really?” He inquired. “They must be world champions at smelling then, huh?”

_God, I love you._

❈

Not only did Louis skip school, he skipped an entire night of sleep too.

He stayed up all night thinking and studying. Studying, because he still had an education, and thinking, because there was a lot of stuff going on in his life again and he felt like he was losing his mind.

For starters, there was the talentshow Niall had forced them into. Everybody seemed to be on board with it, except for Louis. Add to it that the auditions were in a week and they didn’t even have a name yet made them a complete laughingstock. Secondly, there was the fact that Louis was entirely and vehemently in love with Harry even though he’s only known him for about a month—or well, that’s how long they’ve been friends for, incluidng the part where they were dating. He had known Harry before they were properly introduced to each other, but he had just never paid atgention to him, always assuming that he was just another rich kid who would make fun of him.

It was terrifying how quickly and how hard Louis had fallen for Harry. It felt like it had happened in the blink of an eye. 

Now, he didn’t doubt that Harry felt the same thing. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was, was that it had happened so quickly. Louis had always read books and watched movies where it took so long for the characters to say the words ‘I love you’ to each other (apart from Grease, but that movie wasn’t a very good example when it came to realism anyway). He had assumed that that’s how it worked, that it takes time and effort to fall in love.

And yet here he was, in love with a guy he’d only properly known for a month. What a joke, honestly.

By the time it started reaching five am, Louis was itching to get some sort of movement in his legs, so he decided to go out for a walk. This wasn’t an itch he had often, so he made sure to enjoy every second of it. 

Eventually, he ended up in Zayn’s street. He recognised it from the last time he was there, which brought a small smile to his face. The smile disappeared when the door to Zayn’s house banged open and Zayn stormed out.

A man, who Louis assumed was his father, appeared in the doorway.

”You’re never going to get anywhere with it!” He yelled, his voice thunderous at such an ungodly hour. “Nobody needs artists! They need doctors and lawyers, not a dosser like you!”

”Fuck you! Like you’re any better!” Zayn yelled back, and Louis ought it best to stop walking and simply watch from a distance.

”Don’t talk back to me, lad!” Zayn’s father continued, rushing out the door. “You have some resoect for the man who raised you!”

“Too bad you fucked it up!” Zayn said, and the whole world stopped when Louis saw Zayn’s father pull his fist back and punch Zayn square on the nose.

He fell back on the pavement, exclaiming in pain, and Louis finally got some sense back. “Hey!” He yelled, rushing over and stepping between Zayn and his father. “Back off, mate!”

”Louis, it’s fine, just leave it,” Zayn said, his hand in front of his nose and mouth, but it didn’t hide the blood dripping on the ground. There was surprise in his eyes, as he had obviously not expected anyone to come to his rescue, especially Louis.

”Fuck off it’s fine, you’re bleeding!” Louis exclaimed in disbelief.

“You,” Zayn’s father said, pointing a finger at Zayn. “You can come back when you learn to respect me. I don’t want to see your face here till then.”

And then he turned around and marched back inside, slamming the door behind him. Louis turned around to help Zayn up, whose eyes were unusually scared and not something Louis was used to in Zayn’s usual unshakeable demeanour.

”Come on,” Louis simply said when he saw the shameful look in Zayn’s eyes. He was clearly humiliated at the fact that Louis had seen all of that go down. “Let’s go back to mine, yeah?”

Zayn nodded shakily, still not talking, and kept an iron grip on his nose which was still bleeding. 

They walked to Louis’ place in an uncomfortable silence, neither knowing what to say. Louis had never been in a situation like this before, and he also had never even known how bad it was in Zayn’s personal life. He knew Zayn didn’t like to go home, but this was something else entirely.

Louis opened the front door and let Zayn go inside first, who stood around awkwardly as he waited for Louis to lead the way. He walked to the kitchen, pointing to one of the chairs by the dinner table. “Sit,” he said as he opened the freezer and took out a bag of frozen peas. 

Thankfully, Zayn’s nose had stopped bleeding. The blood that had escaped was now dried on his chin and t-shirt, but nobody really seemed to care in that moment—Zayn least of all, eager to put the bag of frozen peas on his aching nose.

Louis sat down in the seat in front of him. They sat in silence for a few moments, before Louis sighed and met Zayn’s eyes. “I have to ask this,” he said. “Does he, like, abuse you?”

After a couple of tense seconds on Louis’ part, Zayn answered. “No,” he said. “I mean, he’s hit me a couple of times before, but like, nothing bad. You just happened to see the worst one so far.”

”That’s abuse, mate,” Louis carefully said. “A parent should never touch their kid like that, alright? Never.”

There was another beat of silence before Zayn spoke up. “You’re right,” he said. “But it’s not abuse, I swear, ‘s’not.” He sighed. “I know people make like, excuses for their abusers and shit, but this ain’t like that. He’s just... it’s like when a mother hits her kid with a sandal, yeah? That’s what it’s like.”

Even though Louis still wasn’t convinced entirely, he decided to drop the subject. The two men he had ever considered his fathers left him and his family in the dust, so he supposed he wasn’t really in a position to tell Zayn what a good father and a bad father was. “You alright?” He then asked.

Zayn shrugged dismissively. “I’ll live. Hurts like hell though.”

Louis scoffed. “I bet,” he said. “Your old man’s got a mean right hook.”

When Zayn laughed the mood was lifted a little, but it was promptly down again when he started talking again. “Got fuckin’ kicked out though. That’s a new one.”

”You can crash here for as long as you need,” Louis quickly offered. “If you want to.”

Zayn sent him a thankful smile. “That’s alright. I think I’m just going to crash at Liam’s place, he’s got the room for it,” he said, grinning at Louis. “No offence, but I really don’t want to share a bed with you.”

”Oi,” Louis said, playfully kicking his shin and chuckling along with him.

A silence fell over them, this time a lot more comfortable than the ones before. Louis let himself pity Zayn, even though he knew he probably wouldn’t want to be pitied had he been in Zayn’s position.

”What were you doin’ up so early anyway?” Zayn asked, breaking the silence.

”Didn’t go to bed,” Louis answered. “Was working on some stuff.”

”Me too,” Zayn said, nodding as well as he could with the bag still pressed against his nose. “Was up all night just sketching, you know, when my dad just suddenly walks in and starts shoutin’ at me about my education and career or whatever.” He looked at Louis with a bashful grin. “Guess he found out about the two I got for Math.”

Louis smiled in amusement, though it wasn’t entirely sincere. He was still shaken up about the things he had just witnessed. “You want breakfast?” He then asked, and Zayn nodded.

”That’d be nice,” he said as he followed Louis into the kitchen. “You got cereal? Or did you eat it all?”

Louis turned to him with a frown. “Why would I...” he said, before understanding what Zayn was getting at. “Right. When we first hung out.”

”You remember? Aw, babes,” Zayn sarcastically said, making Louis laugh and playfully punch his shoulder.

”Babes, that’s really fuckin’ romantic,” he said, opening the cupboard and tossing a box of cereal at Zayn, who barely managed to catch it. 

“Oi, careful, I’m injured!” He said, grinning. “You know what, I’m going to call you ‘babes’ from now on. Try to stop me.”

”I will after you cleaned your face,” Louis said, pointing to the sink. “You look like you just walked off a horror movie set.”

Zayn turned on the sink. “Cheers,” he said, rubbing away the dried blood. “You reckon you have a shirt for me to wear? Don’t think people would handle it well if I came to school in this.”

Louis smiled. “I’m sure we’ll find you something, mate.”

And so another problem was added to Louis’ rapidly growing list of problems: how in the hell was he going to get Zayn to feel safe in his own house?


	20. Chapter XX.

_**7:13** _  
_**Good morning lou :) can’t pick you and the girls up today, got a flat tire, sorry. See you at school .xx H** _

Zayn had helped Louis with his sisters the rest of the morning after he took a shower to wash away the blood. Neither he nor Louis thought it would be a good idea to have the girls see a stranger covered in blood at eight in the morning.

On their way to school, after dropping off Louis’ sisters, they stopped by the bakery. Louis vaguely registered that the ‘help wanted’ sign was gone, but by the time he could order he had already forgotten to ask about who had gotten the job instead of him (he was still bitter they hadn’t called him back—baking bread couldn’t be _that_ difficult, come on). At school they parted ways to go their own classes, only to meet up again on their way to the cafeteria. Louis didn’t know why, but he and Zayn got along quite well, and he wasn’t about to complain about it.

Once in the cafeteria, they sat down with Niall and Harry. Liam was nowhere to be found. “Hey,” Louis greeted Harry, kissing his cheek as he sat down beside him.

Harry beamed, returning his greet with a small “Hey,” of his own.

Niall pointedly turned his cheek to Zayn after he watched them. “Come on, dear, me too,” he said, earning himself a slap on the back of the head. “Only jokin’.”

“Car okay?” Louis asked Harry, grabbing Harry’s water bottle and taking a sip from it, not bothering to ask permission.

”Yeah, like I said, just a flat,” Harry replied. “It’s getting repaired as we speak. Picking it up after school.”

”Somebody slashed your tire?” Zayn asked with a cocked eyebrow. “We need to beat a bloke up?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head and taking the water bottle back from Louis, taking a sip himself. “No, no. The guy at the garage said it’s because my tires weren’t resistant enough to the cold.”

”I heard it’s going to be one of the coldest winters in, like, ten years,” Niall said. He shuddered, crinkling his nose. “Fuckin’ bullshit, this cold.”

Louis agreed wholeheartedly, and Harry chuckled. “I can’t wait for summer just so I don’t have to hear this one complain anymore,” he said, pointing at Louis with his thumb as he bit into his apple.

“Oi,” Louis protested, pinching Harry’s leg. “I don’t complain, I give commentary.”

”Should’ve heard yourself on the way here,” Zayn said, shaking his head with a grin. “You complain more than... God I don’t even _know_ what.”

Before Louis could reply and defend himself, Niall spoke up, pointing at Harry’s hands. “Jesus, mate, is that blood?”

Louis snapped his head to his boyfriend, concern immediately bubbling up in his stomach. Harry looked at his fingers in surprise, only to turn a deep red colour in what appeared to be embarrassment. “Uh, no. It’s—it’s just a little bit of nail polish.”

When Louis looked closer, he could see the remnants of red nail polish that hadn’t been removed all that well with polish remover. If anything, it had left a red hue over his nails, which resembled a little like blood if you quickly glanced at it, and now everyone was looking at Harry’s hands.

Niall nodded in understanding at Harry’s words, unaware of the state of humiliation Harry seemed to be in. “Red is a bitch to remove, right?” He commented nonchalantly, and Louis saw Harry visibly relax in his seat, like the world was just taken off his shoulders.

It was Niall’s thing not to judge, and now Harry knew that too.

Right as Harry says a small “Yeah,” in response to Niall’s words, Louis blurts out, “How do fuck do you even know about nail polish?”

”Camille,” Niall answered. “She told me about it the other day. Apparently, the cheaper the nail polish, the worse it is for your nail colour or something.”

”Yeah,” Harry said, appearing much more comfortable to talk about nail polish now. Louis was practically beaming with pride. “There’s this brand, Barry M, and it’s the worst, literally stains your nails like you’ve been colouring them in with highlighter.”

So no Barry M nail polish for Christmas.

Before he can say anything in response, he is yet again cut off, this time by Zayn. “Who the fuck’s Camille?”

And Niall smiled so widely, that it becomes evident he was hoping for somebody to ask about her. “My girlfriend,” he said proudly.

”You got a girlfriend?” A voice suddenly said from behind them, and Liam sat down at their table. “What’s her name?”

”Camille,” Louis quickly answered, getting impatient at the fact that he hadn’t talked in nearly a minute—which might as well have been an hour in his book. “None of us have met her yet, though.”

”I reckon you’ll like her,” Niall said. “She can be a bit... oblivious, sometimes, but she’s sweet.”

And as if the Gods were listening in, a girl appeared at their table and sat down next to Niall, kissing his cheek with a dazzling smile. She was a proper beauty with elegant features; brown hair, green eyes and killer cheekbones. Niall had landed himself a looker. 

”Hey baby,” she said, her voice higher than Louis’ expected. Before Niall could reply, she turned to the others at the table. “Hi, my name is Camille! It’s so ace to meet you all!”

She holds out her hand for Louis’ to shake as he’s closest, and when he leans forward to do so he gets a strong sniff of chamomile his way and immediately remembered the perfume thing (he lets the use of the word ace slide for now, even though it should’ve been left in 2009 along with headbands and low-rise jeans).

She shakes all the other guys’ hands, still smiling brightly. When she glances at Niall’s tray, her smile abruptly disappears, and she grabs a fry, holding it up in front of Niall. “Baby, what did I say about these,” she said, not even bothering to low her voice, letting the whole table in on her scolding. “You know these are bad for your health.”

Louis chooses to step in then, plucking the fry from her fingers with a tight lipped smile. “They’re mine,” he said. “Niall got them for me, good lad he is.”

The smile returns. Louis finds it a lot less dazzling now. “Oh, well, that’s fine, nothing wrong with helping your friends!” She said, before leaning closer and lowering her voice. “They really are terrible for you, though. A medium order has 365 calories with 17 grams of fat!” She looked Louis up and down. “You should really watch your fat intake, you’ll be as round as a balloon before you know it—with this diet you’re well on your way.”

Louis was so offended he was ready to call her a cunt right then and there. Thankfully, Harry noticed the anger flaring up in Louis’ eyes and stepped in before Louis could ruin any chance of ever getting along with Niall’s new flame. “Thank you, Camille, but I’m sure we’re more than capable of watching our own diet,” he said with a polite smile.

Camille seemed to be oblivious to the controversial air she had created and shrugged, still wearing that smile that was now getting on Louis’ nerves. “So did you hear about the talent show the school is hosting?” She asked, continuing like she hadn’t just insulted Louis. “I’ll be auditioning, what about you guys?”

“We’re auditioning too,” Louis quickly said, not realising what kind of a hole he was digging for himself. “We’re kind of a boyband, you see.”

He pretended not to see the shocked looks he got from the guys, keeping his gaze on Camille, smiling a fake smile that she didn’t seem to catch. “Oh, that’s splendid! Why didn’t you tell me, Niall?”

Niall looked a little bewildered. “Uh... must’ve forgotten, babe.”

”Oh, well that’s fine,” Camille said. “So I heard that Erin is audtioning with some sort of African dance? Like what even is that?”

Louis couldn’t take it anymore and abruptly stood up. “I’m going to have a smoke.”

Camille immediately opened her mouth. “Those are so bad for you! Did you know—“

”Wow, really, that’s so interesting,” Louis interrupted, highly aware of how rude he was being as he looked at Harry. “You coming with?”

”Yes,” Harry said, eagerly getting out of his chair as he gathered his things, clearly elated at the fact that there was an excuse for him to leave the table.

”I’m joinin’ too, can use one as well,” Zayn said, and everyone ignored the appalled and scnadalised look on Camille’s face at the revelation that two of Niall’s friends smoked.

She should hang out with them more often, see how Niall is after he smoked a spliff. See if she sticks around then.

”I’m coming with you guys, I need to talk to a teacher anyway,” Liam said, clearly lying and just as eager as the rest to leave. “I’ll see you in Chem, yeah Niall?”

”Yeah, see you lads,” Niall said, looking a little relieved at the fact that they were leaving. It was clear that he had also caught on to the fact that Camille was getting on everyone’s nerves.

The other four left the cafeteria quickly. Harry was the first one to speak up as they made their way to the exit. “Jesus,” he shuddered, referring to Niall’s new flame.

”Yeah, what a condescending bitch,” Louis agreed.

”Absolutely horrible girl,” Liam added, always a little softer with his choice of words.

”Bloody cunt,” Zayn said lastly, always a little tougher with his choice of words.

Once outside, Zayn and Louis stood just outside the fence to smoke, and Harry and Liam stayed on the school’s grounds, sitting on a bench.

Louis glanced over after a minute of silence, catching Harry’s gaze and automatically smiling. Harry returned it, and when Louis turned back to Zayn, his cheeks were a little redder than before, but that was only because he was cold.

”You told him yet?” Zayn asked, exhaling a deep breath of smoke.

”Told him what?”

Zayn raised an eyebrow, looking at Louis like he was an idiot. “Hello? ‘I love you’?”

”Aw, babes,” Louis said, making Zayn grin and mutter a “Piss off.” Louis then shook his head. “No, we’re not there yet. I’ve only known him for a month.”

”So?” Zayn said, coughing a bit when he held the smoke a little too long. “We haven’t got long till graduation, mate. Good luck trying to maintain a long-distance relationship once you’re both off to college or whatever.”

It was a fair point.

“So you’re saying, do everything before graduation, just in case?” Louis quipped.

Zayn laughed. “Yeah, mate, why not? You know, tell them you love them, break up and get back together, get knocked up—“

”Jesus,” Louis said, laughing and slapping Zayn’s chest. It got silent after they stopped laughing, but Louis kept going over Zayn’s words before asking, “What about you and Liam?”

”What about us?”

”You know, your dream to go to that art school in Chicago and everythin’,” Louis said, watching Zayn’s expression to see if anything changed. It stayed painfully stoic. “That’s some serious long-distance, all the way to the US.”

There was another small silence, before Zayn sighed deeply and tossed his cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with the ball of his foot. “I don’t know, honestly,” he admitted, suddenly looking troubled beyond his years. “I fuckin’ love him, you know, but I also got a future to think of an’ everything. ‘S’ripping me apart.”

”I’m sorry,” Louis said, at a loss for anything else to say.

”It’s whatever,” Zayn said, shrugging. “Don’t even know if I can go. Parents kicked me out, remember? Don’t exactly have any money to pay for it, so.”

Louis felt unbelievably guilty for bringing the whole thing up. “Parents are overrated anyway.”

Zayn snorted out a loud, dry laugh. “Tell me about it.”

”Did you talk to Liam about what happened?”

”Yeah, he knows. Told him during class. He nearly started crying, but I’m staying at his place until I figure out what the fuck I’m going to do.”

After another minute or so, Louis was done smoking and they returned to Liam and Harry. Zayn tripped over his own feet just as they reached the other two, and if it hadn’t been for Louis catching his upper arm, he would’ve fallen flat on his face. “Thanks babes,” Zayn told Louis.

”Babes?” Harry and Liam asked simultaneously, and Louis and Zayn look at each other before bursting out into chuckles.

”Oh, that, yeah, no,” Louis said, not creating entirely coherent sentences. “That’s... that’s just a joke between us.”

”An inside joke,” Harry muttered, and it took Louis a moment to regroup, because that was the first time he had seen a jealous Harry.

”Yeah, that a problem?” Zayn asked, his grin faltering a little and insecurity flashing in his eyes.

”You tell me,” Harry suddenly bit, making Louis frown. He grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling him away from the other two just far enough to stay out of earshot, not up for a fight.

“Harry,” he pointedly said, even though Harry was stubbornly staring at the ground. “Are you seriously jealous of my friendship with Zayn? _Zayn_?”

Harry shrugged.

”Love, come on,” Louis said, trying again. “It’s just a nickname.”

”Whatever.”

”I don’t like him like that, Haz.”

”You sure about that? ‘Babes’ sounds pretty affectionate if you asked me.”

”Well I didn’t ask, did I?”

”Well maybe you should!”

Louis wasn’t patient. Not at all. Not even when it came to Harry, which was one of his biggest flaws. “Jesus, fine,” Louis said, sighing. “Choke on it, then.”

He brushed past Harry who still didn’t say anything, and pretended like his heart didn’t ache.

He went back inside without bothering to talk to Zayn and Liam.

 ❈

They were fighting. They were offically fighting, and it was childish and stupid and Louis resented it.

Not that he was going to apologise to Harry anytime soon. No, that was up to Harry. It wasn’t like Louis had done anything wrong: he had an inside joke with Zayn, and Harry had gotten jealous and had refused to talk to Louis. It was unfair of him, and Louis wasn’t about to come running to him.

What didn’t help was that Jay had invited Harry over for dinner the next day, because ‘Saturdays are the only days when Louis is home and we can eat like a proper family’. Harry was now part of their family, apparently. Louis secretly loved that.

He decided to make the best out of it, and put zero effort in his appearance. He put on black sweats and Harry’s Rolling Stones t-shirt that he had once left after staying over for the umpteenth time. Over it, he wore the Adidas jacket Harry had bought him, just to say ‘fuck you’ without really saying or meaning it. 

His hair had a little bit more effort in it, but only to make it look like there wasn’t any effort put in it and that it looked like Louis had only woken up minutes ago (but in a hot way. He was going to make Harry realise what he was missing, damnit).

”Louis, are you seriously wearing that?” Jay asked when Louis strolled into the living room. She was sat by the dinner table, reading a book, her makeup light and hair in a nice half-up half-down hairstyle. Louis hadn’t even bothered to put socks on.

“Yes.”

He dropped onto the couch beside Félicité, joining her in an episode of iCarly.

His relationship with his mother had been strained lately, to say the least. They could hardly talk to each other without ending up in one argument or another. 

This, however, wasn’t a matter of pride or stubbornness on Louis’ part; this was about Jay not being a proper mother. As soon as she got a real job instead of the one she now had Louis would come crawling back to her—he was still a mama’s boy after all, and silently longed for her advice and forehead kisses. He wasn’t going to let her go down easily, though, just because he loved her. She was going to have to work for it, literally.

After approximately twenty minutes and giggles from Louis and Félicité whenever something funny happened in the episode on the telly, the doorbell rang and announced a visitor.

”Louis, sweetheart, go get the door.”

”Why?”

”Because Harry’s your boyfriend! Louis!”

Louis got up from his comfortable position on the couch and walked over to the door leisurely, making sure to take his time. Then he remembered the cold and realised that Harry was probably freezing and practically broke out into a sprint to open the door for him. 

When he opened it he found a ridiculously handsome Harry hidden behind two bouquets of flowers. He smiled when he saw Louis, only for the smile to abruptly disappear when he seemed to remember their stupid, dumb, _bullshit_ fight.

Not that Louis was bitter about it or anything.

Harry shoved one of the bouquets in Louis’ hands. “They’re gloxinias,” Harry said. “You should Google the meaning.”

Louis could decide that for himself, thank you very much.

”Come on, the warm air’s escaping,” Louis said, hoping that Harry could hear his _hi love are you cold please come in before you freeze and I kill Mother Nature_ in his words _._ From the way Harry scowled, he didn’t seem to catch them.

Out of pure instinct, Louis helped Harry out of his coat and hung it up by the coatrack. Only when they were done did they seem to realise what Louis had just done for Harry, and promptly furrowed their brows and walked into the living room.

Harry immediately walked over to Jay, giving her a hug and handing her the second bouquet, this one with white flowers. “They’re gardenias,” Harry explained. “They represent children and family because of their purity and sweetness.”

So his mum gets an explanation but Louis gets told to Google it? Very classy.

”Oh, Harry, how thoughtful!” Jay said, sounding completely elated and then looking at Louis who was still holding his own bouquet. “And you got Louis flowers too! How sweet!”

Louis just took the bouquet from her and walked into the kitchen to put them in the ice cream buckets that were now empty. “Harry, could you help Louis bring the food to the table?” Louis heard Jay asked and muttered a curse under his breath.

Harry then walked into the kitchen, and an awkward silence fell over him and Louis, who put the bouquets in the water filled buckets. “Salad’s in the fridge,” he mumbled, and Harry walked over to the fridge. 

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he said as he took out the salad that Jay had made about an hour ago.

”Oh?” Louis said, not even bothering to sound like a good liar as he grabbed the lasagna from the oven (it was off, but kept the lasagna warm). “Didn’t even notice.”

Harry scoffed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

”And you’re being a terrible boyfriend, what’s up?” Louis replied, purposely bumping into his shoulder as he passed him with the lasagna Jay had also prepared. 

It seemed Harry was speechless when he followed Louis into the living room, putting the food down on the table where everybody except he and Harry were now sitting at. Louis went back into the kitchen to fetch the mashed potatoes and wasn’t exactly happy when Harry followed him.

”Seriously? You’re going to be childish about this?” He hissed to Louis, who abruptly turned around.

”I’m being childish?” He said, keeping his voice low so that his family who were only a few steps away couldn’t hear them. “You’re the one who’s angry about a fucking nickname!”

”I’m angry because you flirted with Zayn!” Harry whisper-yelled.

Louis’ dropped his mouth open in shock. “Flirting? Are you—“ he halted when his voice rose, and quickly silenced himself. “Are you out of your mind?”

”Oh, what, I can’t even be concerned about my own relationship anymore?” Harry said, and Louis scoffed, shaking his head and grabbing the plate with mash only to face Harry again, making sure to get all up in his face.

”We’ve been dating for less than a month,” he hissed. “We haven’t even fucked yet so stop acting like I married you.”

He tried to walk past Harry, who tried to block his path with a hurt look on his face. “Louis,” he tried, sounding regretful even though Louis damn well knew he should feel the same regret, but he didn’t bother to listen and brushed past him. When Harry took hold of his elbow he abruptly pulled away, and didn’t realise he had yelled the words “Don’t touch me!” until he heard the cold silence through the entire house.

Harry looked like he was about to cry. Louis’ heart pretty much broke.


	21. Chapter XXI.

Louis and Harry were sitting in front of each other, their feet forced to touch because Harry’s legs were too long and Louis was too stubborn to move his own feet. Harry was making conversation with everyone, even tried with Louis, but the latter just poked around in his food, not hungry anymore and in a sour mood because of, what he had now dubbed, The Bullshit Fight.

Jay looked a little worried for him but thankfully kept her worry to herself and instead talked to Harry, who was clearly trying his best at trying to keep the mood up. It seemed to work because the girls were smiling and laughing and happily chatting.

”No, my mum’s in LA right now,” Harry said when Jay asked him if he needed to call his mum in case it would get late. “Business trip, so.”

”What type of business?” Jay asked.

”She co-owns a record label.”

”Oh?” Jay said, her interest peaking as she looked at Louis. “Louis isn’t that great, you love music!”

”Hm-mm,” Louis hummed an agreeing sound. It earned him a kick to the shin from Harry, to who he immediately glared. He got the hint, however, and started talking. “Yeah, no, she’s nice.” He sighed at his own incompetence of keeping a conversation alive. “So, did I tell you that the lads and I are joining the school’s talent show?”

Jay’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

”What’s a talent show?” Phoebe asked. Louis explained it to her as he wiped some sauce from her chin with a napkin.

”It’s when a bunch of people compete with useless talents that you can’t compare to each other, and a bunch of pricks decide which talent is the least useless.”

”Louis!” Jay scolded, giving him a warning look. Louis just mumbled an apology and pretended not to see Harry quietly chuckling to himself. Jay sighed softly but didn’t bother to wipe the amused smile from her face. “So, who are these ‘lads’?”

”Harry, Zayn, Liam, Niall,” Louis summed up. “Me.”

”Who’s Liam?” Jay asked.

”Zayn’s boyfriend,” Harry answered before Louis could, most likely to spite him. “He’s a good guy, really sweet. Pretty fit too.”

Louis felt jealousy in the pit of his stomach, and right as he felt it did he realise that Harry was saying those things on purpose—he was trying to get a reaction out of Louis.

”Boyfriend?” Jay said to herself. “Explains the nails, I suppose.”

”Mum, his nails are short because he’s an artist, not because he’s a lesbian,” Louis promptly said, causing Harry to start laughing and Jay to look at him in shock.

”Louis!” She scolded yet again.

”What’s a lesbian?” Daisy asked, turning to Louis.

“A woman with a good enough taste not to be interested in blokes,” Louis said, and then quickly added a “Kidding,” when Jay opened her mouth again.

Harry was almost under the table with laughter.

After another twenty minutes, the twins started yawning and it was time for bed. Félicité seemed tired as well and didn’t argue with Louis when he picked her up and carried her up the stairs. Harry focused on the twins, helping them up the stairs and to their rooms.

When all three had their pyjamas on, their teeth brushed and faces washed, Louis put them to bed, giving each a kiss on the forehead. Harry did the same when they asked for him. Louis pretended not to find it endearing.

They walked down the stairs together and back into the living room. Harry went to the kitchen to help Jay with the dishes, but Louis didn’t follow him and sat down on the couch where Lottie was sitting too. He wasn’t doing it because he was lazy, but because he knew for a fact that if he went into that kitchen with Harry and Jay in it, he’d end up screaming and throwing plates at the wall. He was just taking precautions, that’s all.

”What are we watchin’?” He asked Lottie, who cuddled into her brother’s side, putting the blanket she had over her lap over Louis’ so that they were both covered.

”The Great British Bake Off,” she answered, shuffling a little until she was comfortable enough and Louis could put an arm around her.

“Who’s your favourite?” Louis asked, suppressing a yawn when he was suddenly overcome with fatigue.

Lottie didn’t hesitate to answer. “Chris. He’s a cancer survivor,” she said, then pointed at the screen when a guy in his late forties came into view. “That’s him.”

Louis only hummed, closing his eyes and telling himself that he’d open them again in a second. He enjoyed these type of nights when he was cuddled up on the couch with his siblings. Lottie had always been one for cuddling, so their current position wasn’t uncommon for them.

It was sweet and made Louis wish that his sisters would stay young forever.

When he heard a voice gently say his name and rub his knee he opened his eyes, only to find the telly turned off, Lottie no longer by his side and Harry crouched in front of him. It was clearly much later, and a quick glance at the clock told Louis it was nearly midnight. 

He sat up a bit straighter, completely relaxed in the couch’s cushions with the blanket now over his entire body instead of just his lap.

”Hey,” Harry whispered. “It’s late. I’m going home. Jay just went to bed, thought I’d wake you so you could do the same.”

Most of the lights were turned off, the only two that were on was a reading lamp next to the couch and a dim light in the hall that gave a soft glow only a couple of steps into the living room.

”I fell asleep,” Louis mumbled, rubbing his eyes and then realising that his words were pretty unnecessary, like Harry’s hand that was still on his knee. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, keeping his voice low. He then stood up, his hand slipping of Louis’ knee and leaving a cold feeling behind in the spot where it had previously been. “You were out like a rock.” 

Harry walked into the hallway, and Louis followed him after turning off the reading light, barely able to keep his eyes open as he waited for Harry to put his coat on. Harry noticed, and smiled softly. “You can go to bed, Louis, I don’t need help putting on my coat.”

”Oh,” Louis mumbled, thinking that it would’ve been nice to spend another extra minute with Harry even though they were technically still fighting. Why did they have to be so stubborn? 

“Did you get a chance to look up the meaning of the flowers I gave you?” Harry asked, and Louis shook his head.

”You were with me the entire night, did you see me on my phone?” He pointed out, taking his first step onto the stairs. “Besides, I don’t even remember the name.”

“Gloxinia.”

”Right, yeah. I’ll just look it up tomorrow or something.”

Harry looked disappointed but nodded. “Goodnight, Lou.”

”Goodnight, love,” Louis said because even if they were fighting, Harry was always going to be his love. That was something nobody could take away, not even Harry himself.

Then he walked up the stairs and ignored the ache in his heart when he wanted to kiss Harry, and forced himself into his bedroom. He sat down on the bed, sighing.

It took him exactly twelve seconds before he gave into the temptation and pulled out his phone to look up the meaning of the bloody flowers.

His heart pretty much fell out of his ass when he saw that gloxinias signified love at first sight. 

It was Harry’s way of telling Louis he loved him, and not only that; it was Harry’s way of telling Louis he loved him from the moment they met.

Louis dropped his phone onto the floor, uncaring for any cracks that it could earn from the sudden aggression and bolted out the door. He rushed down the stairs just in time to see Harry open the front door, and he quickly slammed it close, pressed a bewildered Harry against it and crushed their lips together.

He kissed Harry feverishly, the other boy responding easily. “You - actual - knob,” he said through kisses. “You - fucking - dramatic - tosser.”

He pressed his lips to Harry’s one more time, kissing him deeply and passionately before pulling back, looking into Harry’s eyes and then saying, gently,

”I love you too.”

❈

Louis was perfectly content. 

Harry had stayed over, obviously, and the two of them hadn’t gone to sleep till it was nearly two am, unable to stop kissing and whispering apologies and sweet nothings and ‘ _I love you_ ’s over and over again.

They were dramatic and a complete mess, but God did they wear it well.

Harry dropped Louis off at the diner that morning. After at least ten minutes of snogging in Harry’s car and then by the door to the diner, Louis finally managed to pull himself away.

”I seriously have to go,” he mumbled, but kissed Harry again, only to pull away once more. “Going to be late.”

Harry sighed dramatically, nearly whining. “Okay, fine,” he said, pecking his lips three times. “Call me when you get off.”

”Okay,” Louis said with a smile, kissing him deeply for a few seconds, then pecking his lips, cheeks and nose and then squeezed his bum for extra measure and because Harry was his boyfriend and he could, before he forced himself to go inside the diner.

Tom thankfully wasn’t around, still in Scotland to meet his girlfriend's parents. Louis could only imagine how that was going. 

A new worker whose name was Jade gave him a smirk as he grabbed his half apron to tie around his waist. “That’s a cute one,” she commented, clearly referring to Harry. 

“I know, right?” Louis said with a grin, grabbing a pen and paper and putting them in the pockets of his half apron.

”Why he’d date someone like you, though,” Jade teased, earning herself a playful push. “Kidding. Seriously though, you scored yourself a real looker.”

Louis beamed. “He’s not just pretty, he can sing too.”

Jade leaned a little closer. “Does he have a brother?” She asked with a grin, making Louis laugh. 

“No, afraid not,” he said, only to remember Gemma. “He’s got a sister, though. She’s like, two or three years older than us?”

Jade sighed. “Too bad I don’t swing that way,” she said, sounding a little disappointed. It made Louis chuckle.

”You’re mental,” he commented, earning himself a laugh before he walked out of the back to serve customers.

He felt oddly positive about his shift, and just hoped that it would stay that way.

Turns out that God liked to fuck up Louis’ mood because the shift had been horrible. Somebody had spilled their water all over Louis’ shoes, one kid had emptied all the salt from the salt shaker on the table when his parents weren’t looking, their coffee machine broke which was a complete disaster because that was their main source of income in the morning, and to top it all off, Louis had gotten a text from Niall to meet at Harry’s place to ‘rehearse for the auditions’. 

He had completely forgotten about the stupid talent show. As if they were going to win.

Louis had to walk to Harry’s place in the biting cold, his mood worsening with each step. He quickly texted Harry.

**Had a shit shift. Prepare for an attitude.**

He just hoped Harry had gotten the text by the time he rang the doorbell. When the door opened, Harry was behind it and smiled brightly as he pulled Louis inside.

Before Louis could say anything, he was pressed against the wall and Harry had his lips on his. 

Harry kissed him passionately and deeply, sliding his tongue into Louis’ mouth and making Louis weak in the knees with the sudden affection. When they pulled apart they were both breathless.

”What was that for?” Louis asked, licking his lips.

Harry grinned. “You said you had an attitude. I thought that would help.”

”It did,” Louis muttered as he shrugged off his coat. “Jesus, it did.”

Harry just looked a little amused. “Come on, the others are upstairs.”

Louis followed him, their hands clasped together like they were each other’s lifeline (they had to step over Paul who was asleep on the stairs—Louis could swear he had gained even more weight since the last time he saw the cat) and expected to walk into complete chaos—instead, Niall was sitting on one of the couches, strumming an acoustic guitar. Zayn sat beside him, watching him with what looked like an awe-struck look on his face. Liam was on a laptop, typing and clicking rapidly.

”Lads,” Louis said, sitting down on the other couch in front of the other. He got a few concentrated hums.

”That’s a C, yeah?” Zayn asked, and Niall nodded with a grin.

”Yeah,” he said. “See, you’re picking this up in no time, mate.”

Zayn looked properly proud, but Louis wasn’t really surprised. He was much more creatively wired than most of the people Louis had met, so it only made sense for him to have some sort of talent for music.

”We’re picking out a song,” Harry explained to Louis, who nodded. “We don’t want to go too boyband on the jury, but something a little more original, you know?”

”Speaking about a boyband,” Louis said. “What’s our name?” 

He didn’t get an answer. “Seriously? We’re looking for music but we don’t even have a name yet?”

Liam shrugged. “We’ll come up with something.”

Niall put his guitar away, snorting. “We should do something dumb like Forestreet Boys or something.”

Louis laughed. “Out Of Sync then?”

The others laughed, even Liam who was so absorbed in his laptop. “No, that’s terrible,” Zayn said. “That’s like we’re trying to say we’re equally good as those bands.”

“They’re boybands too, though,” Louis pointed out. Not that he ever listened to boybands. Obviously.

Zayn suddenly crinkled his nose. “We’re not wearing matching outfits, right? No offence, but I don’t want to dress like you lot.”

Nobody took offence to it: Zayn had his own dark style of clothes, typically artistically styles. Like his tattoos didn’t give that away already (the ‘zap’ one should be proof enough).

“God no, we’ll look like a bunch of tossers if we do that,” Niall said, and everyone wholeheartedly agreed. “You found a song yet, Liam?”

Liam shook his head. “Nothing yet. I want to find something that’s, like, inspirational or something? Like, teenagers can relate to it and stuff, really hit the demographic we’ll be singing in front of.”

”Can I make a suggestion?” Harry asked. Everyone looked at him expectantly, even Liam. “Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus.”

”Yes,” Louis immediately agreed, always one for the more rock sound on the music side of life. “Oh, my God, yes, please.”

The others chuckled at his enthusiasm. “I’ll look around some more, but I like it too,” Liam said, turning back to his laptop. “We’ll put it on the list.”

”Still, a name,” Niall muttered, leaning into the cushions. “I mean, it’s got to be fuckin’ catchy. And l, like, everyone should relate to it, even the jury. We have to make it inspirational.”

A silence fell over the room in which everyone brainstormed for a name. “One True 5?” Niall tried, before crinkling his nose. “Actually, nevermind, that makes it sound like we have a God complex.”

Another silence. “Jesus, I don’t know,” Zayn muttered. “Like, Unity, or something?”

”That’s corny, mate,” Niall replied, earning himself a glare.

”Like yours was so much better.”

There was another silence. “Directionless?” Harry tried then. “It’s, like, a metaphor that we don’t really know where we’re going in life?”

A thought suddenly hit Louis’ brain so hard he visibly started and blurted out, “I got it!”

Everyone looked at him in surprise. “One Direction!” He said, and everyone was silent for a moment before they grinned—everyone except for Niall. 

“Because even though we don’t know where we’re going, we’re still going in the same direction, one direction,” Harry said with a fond smile, and Louis nodded. It earned him a kiss on the cheek which he gladly accepted.

”Oh,” Niall suddenly said, his eyes widening. “ _Oh_. One Direction. Jesus, I thought you said Wonder Erection, I didn’t get why everyone was so excited.”

After a few seconds, Zayn hits him on the back of the head, and he gets a pillow in the face from Louis and Harry’s direction. “What is wrong with you?” Louis said.

”Sex obsessed, you are,” Harry muttered, shaking his head. “Alright. So we got the name, I think we got the song too. Now, how about vocals and music?”

Everyone stares at him blankly. “I mean, like, who is singing which part and are we doing a track or are we doing the music live? Like, acoustic or something?”

”Oh,” Louis said, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, can everyone here sing?”

“A little,” Niall said with a careless shrug. 

“I’m alright, Zayn can hit some killer high notes,” Liam said, and Zayn nodded. “We all know about Harry, I reckon. That just leaves you, Lou.”

”He’s brilliant,” Harry said before Louis can say anything. “Like, mental. Insanely good.”

Liam’s eyes flicker between the two of them, a smile slowly growing on his face. “Okay, I guess that answers that question.”

Louis isn't sure if he likes the fact that he's going to be singing in front of an audience. Well, they need to pass the auditions first, but still. He would have to sing for about three or four people, which was already pretty nerve-wracking when he remembered that they were going to decide whether they were going through to the next round.

Like he didn't have enough things to worry about already.


	22. Chapter XXII.

After listening to Teenage Dirtbag for three times in a row, Liam spoke up first (this was good for Louis, who was already getting restless from sitting still and just listening the whole time). "I reckon we let Harry do the first verse," he said. "You know, 'cause he’s got the most training out of all of us."

Everyone agreed. Nobody seemed too excited about opening the song, but Harry actually looked thrilled to do the first verse—Louis supposed that was just the hidden rockstar within him.

"I say we skip the second verse," Harry said. "It's kind of rude, you know. Don't think that the jury will like it if we sing 'her boyfriend's a dick' and 'he brings a gun to school' only to follow it up by singing that we're going to get beaten up."

It was fair, and everyone agreed yet again. "We do the chorus together, right?" Niall asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeah, bit obvious, I reckon," Zayn said. "You know, boybands usually do the choruses together, right?"

Nobody really had an answer for that.

"Okay, so then we have the part with 'man I feel like mould'," Liam said, scratching the back of his neck before turning to Louis. "Can you, like, sing it? So that we know what your voice sounds like?"

Niall had sung for them already but had insisted on only doing the chorus as he was already playing the guitar. Something about wanting his concentration to be at its peak so that he wouldn't mess up in front of the jury. Zayn and Liam had also sung, and as Liam had said, Zayn could hit some seriously good high notes with barely any effort. Louis was still a bit shocked.

"Uh, yeah, okay," he muttered, clearing his throat and grabbing the printed out lyrics, even though he knew them from the top of his head. He just needed to hold something. He cleared his throat again, nervous to sing in front of the others, but when he felt Harry’s hand on his lower back that then started drawing small circles, his nerves melted like snow for the sun. " _Man, I feel like mould, it's prom night and I feel lonely. Lo and behold, he's walkin' over to me, this must be fake, my lips start to shake. How does he know who I am? And why does he give a damn about me?_ "

It's silent for a moment. "I've known you for three years," Niall then spoke up, his eyebrows raised so high they would disappear into his hairline if he raised them any higher. "How in the fuck did I not know you could sing? And, Jesus, that you were this good?"

Louis shrugged idly, putting the paper back on the coffee table in front of him, not really sure how to answer Niall. Zayn smiled at him. "Like that you changed the pronouns, mate. Makes it clear who's on your mind when you sing it."

Now Louis blushed, automatically glancing at Harry who looked a bit distracted. He reached out and gently grabbed Harry's knee, which jolted Harry out of his trance. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head a little. "Just, uh. I think you should do that part. No offence to the others, just... holy shit, Louis."

"Can I do the part after that?" Liam asked, and everyone looked at him expectantly. "Oh, right, yeah." He cleared his throat. " _'I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby. Come with me Friday, don't say maybe. I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you'_."

Niall looked horrified. "Why is everyone such a good singer," he whispered to himself, and Louis had to agree: Liam had just pushed out a high voice he didn't even know could come out of a guy. It seemed like they all had their array of hidden talents.

"And you say that Zayn can hit high notes," he said, making Liam smile as he turns to a proud Zayn.

"May or may not have gotten a few lessons from someone."

Two hours later, and they have a pretty good base. It's decided that Harry opens, then all five of them do the chorus, Zayn does a couple of 'oh yeah's, 'dirtbag' and 'she doesn't know what she's missing' after, Louis does his part, Liam does his part, then they do the high notes that Zayn did together (only a lot less high), only for Harry to close with another high note.

It's a lot to remember, especially when you take into account that they've never done this before and that auditions are in a couple of days. But they were all surprisingly confident about the audition and also very, very hungry—which resulted in ordering pizza.

Now they were in Harry's living room, spread out over the couch that was just big enough for all of them to fit comfortably. Louis had a dramatic streak going with his affection towards Harry and had slung his legs over his lap, pulled Harry's arm around his shoulder and had rested his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry had laughed but had done nothing to push Louis off, meaning that he probably enjoyed it as much as Louis did.

They were watching an episode of The Jeremy Kyle Show while eating five different pizzas. The episode featured two guys who claimed to be best mates but were too pathetic to work out their problems with each other—and now they were now on the one show that definitely was not going to help with their problems.

Paul McCatney (honestly, Louis just couldn’t get over the name) was asleep on a recliner beside the couch, which made Harry coo in adoration over the feline. Louis just didn’t understand it.

"What a knob," Zayn commented when one of the lads on the telly casually admitted to cheating on his girlfriend because 'he's a player'. When he admits to thinking he's 'God's gift to women' they all start booing at the telly.

"He's got the complexion of a Lord of the Rings orc, fuck off," Louis said, flipping the guy off and uncaring about the fact that the guy—or orc, he supposed—couldn't see Louis' resentment. Harry chuckled and kissed the top of Louis head.

"Yeah, if anything, he's God's _curse_ to women, not gift," Niall added, and everyone agreed in hums.

Harry chuckled again, pressing another kiss to Louis' neck. "I'm not even rootin' for the other lad, I just want to see Jeremy crush the orc one," he said, and everyone hummed again. Louis kissed his curls, which he then noticed were getting longer. Maybe Harry was growing them out: he could get behind the idea of a long-haired Harry.

It was quiet for a moment, before the living room explodes once more.

"Did they just _censor_ the word bisexual?" Niall exclaimed in disbelief, and Louis' slowly filled with resentment. All eyes turned to him, most likely because of own bisexuality.

He buried his face in Harry's neck. "Can we watch something else, please? Before I explode and like, destroy your telly? Or write a really long letter of complaint?"

"You got Netflix, Harry?" Niall asked as he grabbed the remote and Louis sent him a smile at his quick reaction. Harry nodded and quickly explained how to start it up, and not much later, they were watching The Wolf of Wallstreet.

Louis tried to concentrate on the movie, but after ten or fifteen minutes he got bored and buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, where he started pressing soft kisses.

Harry’s hand that was caressing Louis’ arm paused to squeeze his arm when he felt the kisses, and then continued moving up and down. Louis made sure to keep it all fairly innocent.

After a minute or so, Louis stopped with his kisses and whispered into Harry’s ear, “I love you.”

The others didn’t seem to hear it. Harry just smiled and kissed the top of Louis’ head. “I love you too,” he murmured, and neither of them missed the way the other three snapped their heads at them.

Zayn looks proud, Liam looks endeared, and Niall surprised. They don’t say anything but just turn back to the screen, and Louis realises that he’s got some very special friends.

He falls asleep somewhere along the line and misses the entire movie.

He gets woken up by the sound of a phone ringing, and lifts his head, looking around groggily. It’s Zayn’s phone.

”Shit, it’s Waliyha,” he said, jumping up from the couch and walking out of the room as he says a small “Hi,” into the phone.

”It’s his little sister,” Liam explained to a confused Niall, who then nodded.

”He’a got a sister?” Louis asked, following it with a yawn.

Harry chuckled, watching him with a fond look. “Slept well?” He teased. “But, yeah. He’s got one older sister and two younger ones.”

”Parents probably didn’t tell them he’s kicked out,” Niall said, scratching his neck as he starts gathering the empty pizza boxes.

It seemed that Zayn had informed everyone about his current situation, then. “Zayn said you saw it happen,” Harry mumbled to Louis, who nodded and rubbed his eyes.

”Yeah. Arsehole punched him in the nose,” he said. “Kicked him out because he wants to go art school. What the fuck, even.”

The air was silent, but nobody needed to say anything to tell Louis they agreed.

Zayn walked back inside then, and Liam jumped up with a smile. “Everything alright?” He asked, and Zayn shrugged.

”Fine, I reckon,” he muttered. “She didn’t understand why I haven’t been home the last few days.”

He and Liam gathered the glasses and follow Niall, who was holding all the empty pizza boxes, out of the living room to put them in the dishwasher, leaving Harry and Louis entangled on the couch.

”Lou?” Harry asked, and Louis looked at him with a fond smile.

”Yeah, love?”

Harry brushed some hair out of Louis’ face. “Remember Gemma?” He asked, and Louis nodded. “She, uh, she called when you were at work.”

Louis sat up a bit straighter, now more alert. “And?”

”We talked for, like, two hours,” Harry said, smiling to himself as he recalled their conversation. “And, uh, I might have mentioned you. Us.”

”Did she, like, know about your sexuality?” Louis carefully asked, afraid that Harry was about to admit that the sister he loved so dearly turned out to be a raging homophobe.

But Harry chuckled, and Louis knew it was alright. “Know? God, she was the first person I came out to,” he said. “She said ‘I know’ after I said it—out of nowhere, as well—and just continued straightening her hair and started talking about a movie trailer she had seen on the telly.”

Louis smiled, remembering his own coming out. He was sat during dinner with his family on a Tuesday night, thirteen years old, and when Mark had asked about his day at school, blurted out “I’m bi,” and nearly choked on his own spit when he realised what he had just done. After a couple of tense seconds, Mark had said a small, “Alright, son,” and had repeated his question while Jay had smiled and patted Louis’ arm.

That was one of the many good memories of Mark, which also didn’t explain why he had left them. Louis was still looking for an explanation. He didn’t think he was ever going to find one.

”So, what did she say?” He asked, afraid that Gemma was disapproving of their relationship.

Harry beamed. “She wants to meet you. Over Skype, though, she can’t just pop over here.”

Louis audibly sighed in relief, only to tense up all over again. “Shit, Harry, what if she doesn’t like me?”

Harry chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Actually, you two have very similar personalities. You’ll get along fine.”

The other three return then, Niall now in a jacket and a scarf that Louis hadn’t seen on him before; Camille probably bought it for him. “I got to get home, lads,” he said, looking a little bummed about leaving but still smiled, because he was Niall and never stopped smiling. “When are we rehearsing again?”

”Tomorrow after school?” Zayn suggested, but Louis shook his head.

”Can’t, I’ve got work.”

”Me too,” Harry said, and it gets quiet then. Louis slowly looks at him, and Harry slaps a hand in front of his mouth with widened eyes.

”You got a job?” He asked, racking his brain before his own eyes widened. “Oh, my God! The bakery! That’s where you work!”

It made sense, really: Harry staring at the help wanted sign at the bakery, the fact that the sign was now gone and that Louis had been rejected.

”How do you know that?” Niall asked, but Louis doesn’t look away from Harry.

”Because I applied too.”

Harry looks guilty then. “Shit, Lou, I’m so sorry I didn’t—I should’ve checked with you.”

”No, no, it’s fine,” Louis sincerely said, shaking his head and dismissing Harry’s apologies. “Why did you get a job anyway?”

Harry shrugged a little. “I wanted to know what it was like, I guess. Wanted to make use of my time as well.”

“Well, congrats, Haz,” Liam said, sending him a smile. “What days do you work?”

“Mondays, obviously, and Wednesday and Friday afternoons,” Harry answered, and Louis is silently relieved that Harry doesn’t work on days that Louis is free, because that means they can still get to hang out in the same astronomical amounts they have lately.

”That’s cool, mate,” Niall said. “Auditions are Thursday afternoon though. We have to meet at least once more before then.”

“How about Tuesday night?” Liam suggested, and Louis shook his head again.

”I work till midnight then,” he said, and frowned. “Shit, I got to take time off Thursday. Got to work at four, those auditions are at the same time.”

He used to work at Lord of the Fries on Tuesdays, but ever since that place closed down Louis had taken another shift on a Tuesday to compensate financially. The biggest downside was that he was forced to spend yet another night with Tom.

Zayn chuckled in disbelief. “Jesus, your life is mental,” he said. “Alright, what about Wednesday night and tomorrow night?”

”Well, I got work till eleven pm tomorrow,” Louis sheepishly said, earning himself exasperated looks on all sides. “Sorry lads, got to support five women at home. I can do Wednesday, though, after six pm.”

”Hallelujah!” Niall exclaimed, looking up at the sky like God himself had spoken to him. “It’s settled, then. Wednesday at seven, Harry’s place again?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

“Alright, I’m off. See you lot tomorrow at school, yeah?”

And after a couple of goodbyes, Nialls walks out of the living room. They hear him hum the chorus to Teenage Dirtbag before the front door slams shut and his humming is cut off.

”I guess we should go too?” Liam asked Zayn before looking at the couple on the couch, who still hadn’t moved from ther intertwined position. “Give these two some alone time?”

Both Harry and Louis turn red at the implication—Liam probably assumed that they had already slept together from the ‘I love you’ from earlier on, and now thought that they wanted to have sex from the way they were clinging onto each other. Louis wanted to, definitely, but Harry still wasn’t ready, and there was no way Louis was going to pressure him into anything.

“Yeah,” Zayn said, smirking and clearly thinking the same thing. “We’ll see you two tomorrow.”

After Louis and Harry awkwardly mumble their goodbyes, Zayn and Liam leave as well. As soon as Louis looks at Harry, Harry quickly said, “I’m not ready for that!”

Louis chuckled. “I know, darlin’, don’t worry.”

Harry’s face filled with relieve, and he softly kissed Louis. “Are you staying over?” He asked when he pulled back.

“Yeah, let me just text my mum,” Louis mumbled and grabbed his phone out of his pocket, sending Jay a quick and simple text.

**21:07.  
Staying over at Harry’s. He says hello. x**

Then he climbs over Harry’s lap and the two start snogging like there’s no tomorrow, and Louis only pauses once when he gets a text back from Jay.

**21:12  
Okay! Tell him I say hi back! X**

“Mum says hi,” Louis breathlessly told Harry, who was kissing his neck.

”Don’t really want to talk about her.”

”Yeah, me neither.”


	23. Chapter XXIII.

The next morning is chaotic. Louis is awoken by Harry’s cat Paul who’s screaming in his face (probably because he’s hungry), and it scares Louis so badly that he tumbles out of bed—he pulls Harry with him because they’re so entangled in each other that they’re confined to the same fate.

Afterwards, Louis realised that it‘s a Monday and that he needs to wake up his sisters and prepare them breakfast. He and Harry sprinted through the house to get ready as quickly as they could (Harry doesn’t have time to properly sort out his curls, they share a toothbrush and Louis ends up wearing a shirt that definitely belongs to Harry because it’s a size too big for him). By the time they’ve bought breakfast (Harry insisted, _again_ ) they’re just barely on time to wake up the girls, who are then each so annoyed with the fact that they hardly have time to get ready that Jay wakes up from all the ruckus. 

It’s a mess, and neither Harry nor Louis are very proud of their appearance when they get to school because they look like they just had a quickie in the back of Harry’s car—Niall’s points out as much. (“Used protection, eh, Louis?” “Put a sock in it, Niall.”)

Louis found out he had a three on his French test, and got told that if he didn’t start working harder, he wouldn’t be able to do his exams—he didn’t bother pointing out that he works two jobs and has four sisters to care for, so he works _hard enough already, Miss Beaufort_. He earns himself a sympathetic pat on the back from a guy who sits behind him and who shows his own test that has a big two on it. 

From there on out, he hardly talks to Harry. Apart from seeing him in the morning when he picks up Louis and the girls—which has now become a bit of a morning ritual—they barely see each other during and after school. On Monday, Harry isn’t in lunch because he has to retake a test. They can’t hang out after school because of work, and not even after work because Louis gets off at eleven pm. The next day is the same, and they can’t hang out again because Louis has to work till midnight (although they call each other after and talk till two am). During the hour Louis has between school and work, he studies, practices his singing, prepares dinner for later for the girls to eat and tries to do a few tasks around the house like laundry and vacuuming.

When Wednesday rolls around, Louis is completely exhausted. He’s ready to jump off a bridge, but then he remembers how much effort it’s going to take to climb over the railing and he decides to just do his shift at the library like he’s supposed to. Mildred notices his fatigue and tells him to sit behind the counter to scan the books. He falls asleep three times, and each time she wakes him up by ’accidentally’ bumping into him and pretending like she didn’t notice that he was asleep. 

Louis really does adore her.

After his shift, Harry is waiting outside the library, leaning against his car. Louis’ heart sings when he sees him because it meant that Harry knew Louis’ weekly work schedule from the top of his head. Louis hugs him and lets a few tears escape because he’s just _so, so tired, Haz_. Harry rubs his back, tells him it’s okay and that he loves him and gets in the car after kissing him for a few seconds. When Louis sits down it dawns on him how dependent they got on each other so quickly—they hardly see each other for three days and they nearly lose their minds.

Not that Louis minds it, or anything.

After texting Jay (“Since when do you and my mum text, Harry?”) they get McDonald's on the way home for the whole family—Harry pays, of course, and Louis complains about it, obviously. 

Félicité is elated to see Harry, Phoebe and Daisy are elated for the food, and Lottie gives Louis the finger because he accidentally tossed her white skirt in with Jay’s red dress during laundry and now the skirt is bubblegum pink. He feels exceptionally appreciated, no really, he does.

When he and Harry leave to go to Harry’s place for the rehearsal with the three other guys, he falls asleep in the car. Rehearsals go well, except for when Louis zones out and they have to physically shake him out of it each time. Thankfully they’re all understanding enough not to snap at him. He’s so tired that he lets Paul curl up on his lap and get hairs all over his jeans. He doesn’t really care and actually takes a bit of pity on the cat. (“Even ugly cats deserve a bit of love, huh, bud?” “Mate, did you just talk to the cat?” “Shut up, Zayn.”)

Harry and Louis decide to sleep at Louis’ place to avoid another chaotic morning like the one on Monday. They spent so much time apart, they can’t even imagine not sleeping in the same bed tonight. They’re fucking dependant, and Louis is proud of it.

When he and Harry get back, it’s nine pm and the girls are already in bed—all of them, except for Lottie, who is watching a rerun of Love, Actually. Harry all but sprints to the telly to sit down next to Lottie, and they start gushing about the main male character. Louis just goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and that’s where Jay corners him.

Louis has been trying to avoid her as much as possible like he said before. It’s not that he doesn’t love her, it’s just that she needs to sort out her priorities. 

“Harry’s staying over, is that alright?” He asks, even though he knows the answer will always be yes. 

“Again?” Jay says with a small smile. “You two have been hanging out a lot since you started dating, haven’t you?”

“What are you saying?” Louis asks, immediately ready to defend Harry. It’s kind of a reflex by now.

Jay holds up her hands in surrender. “Nothing, nothing, it’s just...” she trails off before sighing. “Where he goes, you go and vice versa. You’re always together. It’s very... intense.”

”Yeah, well, I love him, we want to be around each other.”

Jay looks taken aback by the use of the word ‘love’ but quickly recomposes and nods. “No, I get that, and I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. If anything, it’s sweet.”

There’s a small silence.

”I’m meeting with Mark tomorrow,” Jay then says, and Louis chokes on his water in surprise. “Only to discuss the divorce settlement, nothing else.”

”Oh, right, yeah, no, that’s.” Louis is stammering, he knows he is, and it’s making the whole situation even more uncomfortable than it needs to be. “Mum? How... how are you doing, you know, with the whole divorce thing?”

Jay smiled and reaches out to squeeze his arm. God, Louis misses his mother’s touch. “I’m fine, sweetheart. It’s not the best of circumstances right now, but we’ll get through it.”

Louis hesitates with his next words. “I know I’ve been distant and rude lately, but... you know why, right?”

And much to his surprise, Jay nods. “I know. And I agree. I need to start stepping up around here.” Tears suddenly gather in her eyes, and her voice is thick when she continues talking. “I’m so sorry for putting everything on your shoulders, Louis. I was so selfish to do that. I’m supposed to take care of you but it was the completely wrong way around, and I’m so sorry for making you think that you were a mistake or that I regretted having you. You’re my firstborn and I will always love you. I promise it’s going to get better, okay? I promise.”

”How?” Louis croaks out, choked up with emotion.

Jay smiles gently. “I might’ve found a proper job. Head assistant at a law firm. I have an interview this Friday. We could get some good money out of this, Louis.”

And Louis rushes into her arms before she can say anything else and hugs her tighter than he ever has, and cries a bit. Jay rubs his back and shushes him softly, but he knows she’s crying too because he can feel the tears on his neck.

”I’m so sorry, mum. I love you.”

”I love you too, boobear.”

He abruptly pulls back. “I swear if you call me that in front of— _anyone_.“

Jay chuckles and brushed some hair from his forehead. “I know, I know. Can’t have me ruining your reputation, can we?”

”Exactly, I have a boyfriend that I need to impress,” Louis says, and Jay smiles brightly. 

“About that,” she says, and squeezes his shoulder. “Oh, my God, Louis! Harry’s your boyfriend! You landed him!”

”I know!” Louis gushes, and it feels good to talk like this to his mum, it feels like home. They used to have talks like this all the time, where they gushed about Leonardo DiCaprio or Ryan Gosling and eventually Dylan O’Brien when the two of them started watching Teen Wolf together. It had actually gotten to a point where Jay had asked Louis if he was sure he was bi and not actually gay, and Louis had been adamant about the fact that he was, in fact, bisexual. Then he had admitted that, for him, it was more of an 80/20 for guys instead of a 50/50. 

There was a knock on the doorframe then, and they turned around to find Harry with the phone in his hands. “Uh, Jay? It’s for you. Says his name is Daniel?”

Jay blushed—which?—and quickly rushed to the phone, before leaving the kitchen and then the living room as well, disappearing upstairs. Louis turned to Harry with his eyebrows raised. “Why did she act like I do when you call?”

”You act like that when I call? You blush and rush for the phone? Also, boobear?” Harry asked with a teasing smile, earning himself a slap on the shoulder and then a kiss on the lips because God help Louis if he didn’t kiss Harry at least fifty times a day.

Louis makes camp on one of the armchairs, assuming Harry wanted to talk with Lottie about the movie on the couch, but instead of doing that, Harry chooses Louis’ lap as a good place to [sit](https://nl.depositphotos.com/149287420/stockafbeelding-paar-zittend-op-de-bank.html). “Really?” Louis says, sounding unimpressed even though his heart is soaring and he needs to hold back his desire to snog Harry because Lottie is _right there_. “You’re taller than me.”

”I know, but I like to be the little spoon,” Harry replies and kisses Louis’ cheek. “Now shut up. I want to watch the movie.”

And Louis does as he says, but not before muttering a small ‘gay’, which earns him a slap on the knee. He responds by squeezing Harry’s leg. Harry responds to that by pulling his hair. They wrestle like that for a little bit before Lottie sighs pointedly loud and gives them a glare. They stop then, grinning mischievously.

Yeah, Louis really bloody loves him. He’s pretty sure it’s mutual from the way Harry is playing with the hairs on the back of his head. 

 ❈

The next day, a Thursday afternoon and literal minutes before their audition, Louis reaches a breaking point with his nerves.

”You know what, nevermind, fuck this, I’m not doing it,” he says as he stands up from his seat, and Harry pulls him down again.

”Calm down, Lou, it’ll be fine.”

”Fine? We had two rehearsals, Harry! Two!”

Niall leans a bit closer, readjusting his guitar on his lap. “Don’t rub it in, mate. I reckon we’ll do fine. Now put a sock in it and relax a little, yeah?”

Louis can’t relax. He’s nervous, Jesus, how is he supposed to relax? “Oh, my God, we’re going to look like actual knobheads up there,” he says. It emits groans from the others, which he ignores. “Like, what the fuck were we thinking? Just audition for the fuck of it? No, Jesus.”

”Harry, can you like, give him a blowjob in the bathroom?” Zayn says, sounding exasperated. “Maybe that’ll calm his arse.”

Harry turns red, but before he can say anything, Louis cuts in. “We haven’t fucked yet, can you shut up? There are more pressing matters at hand here, like the fact that we’re about to be a bunch of fools on a bleedin’ stage!”

”You still haven’t had sex yet?” Niall says with wide eyes, and then a woman opens the door to the auditorium and calls out their names one by one and Louis gets heart palpitations.

”Oh, my God,” he mutters, and he keeps muttering it till they’re in the middle of the stage and are facing four judges. 

“Hi there, boys,” one of the two women out of the four judges behind the table says. “You okay? Nervous?”

Everyone shakes their heads, except for Louis, who nods frantically. 

The woman chuckles. “No need to worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she says, and it does nothing to soothe Louis. “Now, you five are going to sing?”

They all nod.

”Okay. What are we singing?”

”Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus,” Harry says, discreetly linking his pinky finger with Louis’ to try and calm him down a little. “We’ve left out a few parts, though.”

”Okay, sounds like a plan,” the woman says. “Do you guys have a name?”

”One Direction,” Niall answers and accidentally plucks one of the strings on his guitar. 

“Did you come up with it each other?”

They all glance at each other, before turning back to the four judges and saying, in unison, “Yeah.”

”Okay,” the woman says with a sincere smile, and Louis knows that they scored points with their unified answer. She opens her mouth once more.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

❈

When they walk out of the school’s entrance, they start yelling and cheering like they just won the lottery. Louis jumps into Harry’s arms like he just proposed, and hugs him tightly. 

“We just fucking did that,” he mutters into his ear.

Harry lowers him on the ground again. “We fucking did,” he says with a grin, and then kisses Louis, who kisses back enthusiastically.

”We nailed that!” Niall yells, waving his guitar around. They get some odd looks, but nobody cares. “We fuckin’ smashed it!”

Louis can’t disagree: it went well, as in really well. They all hit their high notes, Niall didn’t mess up his guitar, and the judges had all looked impressed. 

Whether they were through to the next round would be revealed next Friday afternoon with a list on the door of the auditorium: there the acts that passed would be listed. It was nerve wrecking, but Louis feels confident.

”Lads, we got to go smoke up now,” Zayn says, shaking his head with a wide grin. “I mean, this calls for a celebration.”

They all agree, and it’s not much later that they’re all in Louis’ room and completely stoned—well, everyone except for Harry. Louis is really glad he called off his shift at the Eatery today: he’s sitting in between Harry’s legs with his back to Harry’s chest, in a really good mood, surrounded by his best friends. It’s not all so bad, he realises.

”Hey, Lou,” Niall calls out from where he’s spread out on Louis’ carpet. “How, like, are you doin’ with findin’ a new job?”

”Not well, mate,” Louis answers, narrowing his eyes a little as he tries to concentrate on a spot on his ceiling that he could’ve sworn wasn’t there before. “Maybe I should just go back to Black Flamingo, eh?”

He and Niall burst out into laughter, but the other three stay silent. Louis promptly stops laughing when Harry stops running his hand through Louis’ hair. He grabs his hand and starts moving it again—Harry gets the hint and continues his strokes.

”What’s Black Flamingo?” Liam asks, his back against the wall and his eyes wide as he looks around Louis’ room: he’s been like that for the last ten minutes. Nobody’s really worried. 

“It’s a gay strip club,” Niall says, snorting. “Louis used to work there.”

”Shit, you used to be a stripper?” Zayn exclaims as he sits up, previously leaning against Louis’ pillow that he had propped up at the end of Louis’ bed. “Like, for real?”

”For real,” Louis answers and looks at Harry who stopped moving his hand again. “Can you move your hand again, please?”

Harry doesn’t, and instead says, his face filled with bewilderment, “You used to be a stripper.”

”For, like, a year,” Louis says, waving it off just as Zayn lays down again. “I stopped when Niall and Mr Collins told me to.”

“ _Collins_ knows?” Liam exclaims, and Louis laughs even though it isn’t really funny. Everything is just a little bit funnier right now. A little bit brighter. Kind of like Harry’s eyes.

”Yeah, he like, knows everythin’, you know,” he says. “He’s helped me a couple of times. Good lad, I reckon.”

It’s silent for a few moments. Then Harry speaks up. “You just keep on surprising.”

The others all agree by nodding and humming. Louis shrugs. “Guess I’m just that charmin’.”

Niall snorts loudly. “No.”

Louis tosses a pillow at his head, but it somehow ends up on Zayn’s face. He doesn’t push it off. “Where the fuck did that come from?” He says, his voice muffled due to the pillow. “Oi, lads, you ever heard of flying pillows?”

”No,” everyone except Harry answers at the same time, and Louis vaguely notes that they sound really good in unison. They should, like, start a band and join some competition, or something.

Then he looks around for his phone, only to find it nearby Zayn’s head, which means it’s out of his reach and that he had to move out of Harry’s arms, which doesn’t sound like a good option. If anything, it’s proving to be a problem.

Five minutes later, he has still not moved. His mind has drifted a little - _I could use the force - you idiot to use the force you have to move your arms - do you have to? What if I’m the special sort of Jedi who just needs to use their mind? - ooh, like Matilda! -_ when Harry nudges his arm. 

“Why are you glaring at your phone?” He asks and then kisses his cheek. 

“No,” Louis answers, which isn’t the right word at all, so he rephrases. “I’m not.”

”Staring, then?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Harry says, and he sounds amused. “Why?”

”Why what?” Louis asks, already forgotten what they were talking about. What was that about Jedis and Matilda?

”Why are you staring at your phone?”

Oh, that. Well, he needs it to text his mum not to come upstairs for a little while. Harry nudges his arm again. Right, use your mouth when you answer, Louis. “Need to text mum. She can’t come upstairs.”

”Why not?” Zayn asks. He still has the pillow over his face.

”’Cause you’re all stoned,” Harry answers, and Louis nods in agreement.

”I like your mum, she’s nice,” Niall says, and Louis nods again. “Makes really good lasagna.”

Louis doesn’t nod this time. Not because he doesn’t agree, but because he just leaned his head back against Harry’s chest and he felt how comfortable that was and damn. Just, _damn_.

“I already texted her,” Harry says, and Louis still finds it weird that Harry and Jay text. But it’s also kind of cool because that means that they’re getting along well. 

Falling in love is so underrated, honestly.


	24. Chapter XXIV.

They’re through to the next round. It’s unbelievable, but true. They actually did it. Because it’s a Friday, both Louis and Harry have to work. And hour-and-a-half before Louis’ shift ends, Zayn, Niall and Liam walk into the library holding a plastic bag with the logo of the bakery Harry works at. 

“Hey, lads,” Louis says, pausing with putting away books in the romance section. 

“Hey, Louis,” Liam says, leaning against the bookcase Louis is filling up. Zayn and Niall sit down at one of the tables in the library, giving him small waves. “We decided to give you some company.”

”Thanks,” Louis says. “You went by Harry first, yeah?”

Liam nods, glancing over his shoulder to the table. “Yeah. Brought you some food. Also went there to give Harry some company, but he seemed to he doing alright with the people who work there.”

Louis isn’t even surprised. Of course Harry would get along with a bunch of a middle aged women: it’s Harry, for God’s sake. “You’re not allowed to eat in here, though.”

”Oh, Louis, start being more of a teenager and break my rules for once,” a croaky voice then speaks up, and of course, it’s Mildred. Zayn perks up with a grin.

”Hey, Mildred! How are you?” He says, and Mildred shuffles over to the table as she replies.

”How am I? Cold, that’s what I am, bloody weather trying to kill me,” she says, and sits down at one of the chairs. 

Zayn is clearly trying to hold back a laugh and nods, attempting to look serious. “Tell me about it. Truly unfortunate.”

Both Niall and Liam look incredibly confused, glancing at Louis who just shrugs with a grin and abandons his books to sit down at the table as well. He reaches into the plastic bag and takes out a donut that has ‘love you Lou’ written on it in glaze, and he has to refrain from rolling his eyes at Harry’s corny behaviour. It’s sweet, though.

Mildred is still complaining about the weather. “Always cold in this country, they need to do something about that. Got the money enough for it, can’t tell me they don’t, just putting it into that stupid space research.”

”I know, it’s unfair,” Louis says and he gets a pat on the arm from Mildred.

”Exactly, boy,” she says, and then gets up from her seat. “Excuse me, I’m going to check what we still have in the back.”

The other four nod and watch her shuffle away. “What a woman,” Niall says, and when Louis looks at him, he notices a bruise on his cheekbone.

”What happened to you?”

Niall frowns, before he gets a look of realisation and touches his cheek instinctively. “Walked into a door,” he says with a tad too long of hesitation.

Before Louis can reply, a muffled crash comes from the room Mildred disappeared into. Then it’s silent. “Mildred?” Louis calls out, but he doesn’t get an answer and promptly forgets his donuts as he jumps up.

Concern overtakes his heart when he still doesn’t get a reply from Mildred after calling out again. His blood runs cold when he opens the door and finds the old woman on the floor, unmoving and not breathing. “Oh, my God!” He exclaims, dropping onto his knees and shaling the woman frantically. “Mildred! Please, Mildred!”

He looks over his shoulder to find the other three behind him, their eyes wide and bodies rigid. “Call an ambulance!” Louis yells, and Liam jumps into action, taking out his phone quickly and rushing out of the cramped back room.

”What...” Niall asks, his face whiter than ever.

”I don’t know, I think she‘s having a heart attack!” Louis says, frantic and terrified. Zayn suddenly pulls him aside, taking his place on the floor and rolling Mildred onto her back.

”I know a but of CPR,” he says when Louis tries to pull him away, and then Niall is pulling Louis out of the room. 

“Come on mate, let’s give him some room,” he says, and sounds strangely calm compared to his terrified gaze.

Liam comes back into the room then, phone still in his hand. “Ambulance is on its way, they’ll be here in two minutes tops.” He looks at Louis, and promptly pulls him into a hug. “Stay with us, mate, don’t go zoning out on us now.”

Louis nods, and then Zayn calls out for Liam and Liam immediately responds and lets go of Louis, who then wants to crumble onto the floor and cry. Mildred is dying only a few feet away from him, and there is nothing he can do. He’s completely useless, and it feels like the most horrible thing he can imagine. 

And then the door slams open and EMT’s are running inside. Louis just shakily points to the open door, and they don’t spare him a glance as they quickly rush into the room. Liam and Zayn are ushered out, and Zayn explains what happened and that he’s been trying to revive her by using CPR but that’s she’s been completely unresponsive. 

When the EMT’s take out a defilabrator Louis whimpers and turns his back to the scene. Liam pulls him into a hug again, and Louis doesn’t bother with holding his tears back. Liam just rubs his back. “She’ll be alright. She’s a strong woman.”

Louis hopes so. He really does.

❈

They’ve been sitting in the waiting room for the last two hours now. Zayn has his head on Liam’s shoulder and is fast asleep, Liam is staring at the floor and Niall is playing a game on his phone, but its clear that he doesn’t have the concentration for it because he hasn’t won a single time. Louis has been biting his nails, waiting for some sort of news about Mildred. They weren’t allowed any news until the doctors had permission from Mildred’s direct family, some bullshit about patient confidentiality, but she only has one granddaughter who has to come over all the way from London. Louis texted Harry a little while ago but still hadn’t gotten a reply, most likely because Harry wasn’t allowed his phone during work hours.

Louis just really wanted—no, _needed_ Harry here, now. It reminded him how insanely dependent they were on each other. It was probably a little unnatural when you consider that they’ve only known each other for a month. It doesn’t matter at the moment, however, because Louis just really needs him right now and it’s making it difficult to breathe for him.

”Hey,” a voice then softly says, and Louis snaps his head up at Liam who is smiling at him. It’s small and uncertain, but it’s there. “Are you okay?”

Louis doesn’t even bother with trying to lie or reassure and just shakes his head. “No.”

Liam nods slowly. “Harry will be here soon enough,” he says, because of course he’s able to draw the right conclusion from the way Louis eyes his and Zayn’s clasped hands.

”I know,” Louis says, shifting in his seat. He knows he’s not being very conversational, but he just can’t get himself to properly reply.

”You and Harry are close,” Liam says, continuing to talk, and it makes Louis realise that Liam is trying to distract him. “You two happened quickly, didn’t you?”

Louis shrugs a little. “I mean, yeah. But, like, I love him, you know what I mean?”

”I know. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it,” Liam says. “If anything, it’s amazing. I’ve never seen two people fall in love that quickly. It’s remarkable.”

Louis smiles to himself. “I’ve known him for a month, pretty sure I fell in love with him in two weeks, but it feels like years,” he says. “Didn’t even know it could happen that quickly. I’m happy, though. He makes me happy.”

Liam looks proud and endeared when he smiles. “Hang on to it, hang on tight,” he says, and then glances at Zayn who’s still asleep on his shoulder. “You don’t want to lose it, believe me.”

Louis looks between the two and feels bad for them. “Did you two talk about the college thing?”

”Yeah,” Liam sighs. “He’s applied to a couple of schools, but it’s obvious he wants to go to Chicago. I’m not going to hold him back, obviously, but still. It hurts.”

”You two will work it out,” Louis tries to reassure. “How long have you been together?”

”Three years next April.”

”See? You can’t just throw away something like that.”

”Thanks, Louis. That’s nice of you to say,” Liam says, and he looks a bit more reassured now, even though they both know Louis’ words are feeble and only do so much. 

The door to the waiting room opens then, and for a moment Louis’ heart jumps because he expects Harry, but instead a woman walks in, a woman Louis immediately recognises. “Addy?”

Addy, Louis’ previous employer from Lord of the Fries, looks at him and gets a look of surprise. “Louis? What are you doing here?” She asks as Louis stands up and approaches her. He notices her stomach is rounder than the last time he saw her. He remembers the pregnancy. “I got a call from the hospital that my grandmother had a heart attack, fucking hell. What happened that got you over here?”

Jesus Christ. The world truly is smaller than Louis thinks. 

“I work with Mildred at the library,” Louis explains, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I was there when it happened,“ he points to the other three behind him, “we all were.”

“Oh, okay,” Abby says, it’s obvious that she’s abit ouf it, butLouis doesn’t blame her. He feels the same way. “Um, did they tell you anything? The doctors, I mean?”

Louis shakes his head. “No, they wouldn’t say anything ‘cause we’re not direct family.”

”Right, of course, Jesus fuck,” Abby stammers, and Louis puts a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hey, calm down,” he gently tells her. “She’s a tough woman, I’m sure she’s fine.”

Abby’s eyes cloud with tears and she shakes her head. “She raised me, God, I can’t imagine losing her,” she whispers. “I mean, I know it’s going to happen eventually. Just, not now, please.” She puts a hand on her stomach. “Not before she meets the little one.”

Her eyes fall on something behind Louis and she squeezes his shoulder. “Excuse me, Louis,” she says and brushes past him to get to, what Louis then sees, a doctor. He turns around to watch her, and because of that, doesn’t notice Harry walking inside until he hears him say, “Lou.”

He whips around and sees Harry there, in a coat with cheeks bitten red by the cold and his curls ruffled by the wind, and he almost crumbles to the floor in relief. He runs over and let’s himself collapse in Harry’s arms. “Thank God you’re here, thank God, thank you, bloody hell.”

Harry just hugs him tightly. “Yeah, I’m here,” he says, and kisses the top of his head. “I’m here. We’re okay.”

After a few minutes of just standing there (in which Louis discreetly cries into Harry’s chest, and Harry holds him in a way so that nobody can see him cry) they sit down with other three. Zayn’s awake now, and sits up straighter, still keeping his and Liam’s hands clasped together. 

“Any news?” He sleepily asks and reveives a bunch of shaking heads. “Fuckin’ hell.”

”Her granddaughter just got here, though,” Louis says. “I used to work for her at Lord of the Fries, the place that closed down?”

”Small world,” Niall mumbles as he puts his phone away, giving up on his game after nearly two hours of continuous playing. 

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, and Harry grabs his hand and weaves their fingers together, before lifting their intertwined hands and kissing the back of Louis’. And somehow, it’s enough to make Louis feel better.

Abby returns a few minutes later with a small, relieved smile. “She’s awake, and doing okay,” she says. 

“Was it a heart attack?” Niall asks, and even though he’s blunt, Abby seems to have expected the question.

”Sudden cardiac arrest,” she explains. “It’s a little different from a heart attack. There’s not a lot of complications, thank God, but I’m afraid she’s not coming back to work at the library, Louis.” 

Even though Louis’ heart breaks, he understands and simply nods. Harry squeezes his hand comfortingly.

”She’s also going to be transferred to a place with assisted living for the elderly,” Addy continues, and hesitates for a moment. “In Brighton.”

”Oh.” It’s all Louis can say. Brighton is a four hour drive. It means that Louis is probably never going to see Mildred again. “That’s. Oh.”

”You can see her now, if you want?” Addy asks with an understanding smile. “Say goodbye?”

Louis nods and stands up, but not before kissing Harry’s cheek. Abby looks a little surprised but doesn’t say anything and puts a hand on his upper back and leads him to the room Mildred is in. He wants to throw up when he sees her pale complexion, her body sunken into the pillows of the hospital bed. It’s unnatural. Not the energetic woman Louis has come to know over the last few years.

”It’s possible she’s not entirely coherent,” Abby tells him softly. “Just give her some time to make her sentences.”

Louis nods, and Abby leaves them, leaving him alone with Mildred. He takes a deep breath and walks further into the room, gently grabbing her hand. It’s colder than he’s used to. “Hey, Mildred,” he whispers, phsyically unable to talk louder.

”Oh, Louis,” she says, and looks sincerely surprised. “Hello, boy. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

Louis smiles even though he’d rather cry. “No, Mildred, it’s already past seven pm,” he says. “Do you remember what happened?”

”The doctors explained it, also said they put a bunch of medicine in my body,” Mildred says. “Unnecessary if you ask me. I’m fit as a horse.”

Louis lets out a tear stained laugh, his eyes foggy with tears. “Yeah, what are they thinking, right?”

Mildred squeezes his hand and swings it a little. “Are you going to be okay when I’m gone?” She asks, a sudden shift in the air from her words. “Brighton is a bloody end.”

”I’ll be okay,” Louis says. “Got a boyfriend now to take care of me.”

”What’s he look like, darling?”

”Curls. Green eyes, like emeralds. Sharp cheekbones, even sharper jawline. Legs for days.” Louis could go on about Harry for hours—days, even.

Mildred chuckles, then coughs, and Louis’ heart clenches. “Sounds like a real gem,” she says, and Louis nods.

”He is,” He whispers, suddenly thick with emotion again. “He really is.”

”You hold onto him, yeah?” Mildred says, squeezing his hand again. “And don’t ever let him forget that he may be a gem, but that you’re a proper diamond.”

Louis lets a few tears escape, albeit unwillingly. “I will.”

”Come on, darling, don’t cry. This old body will be fine.”

”Yeah, I know. Fit as a horse.”

”Exactly,” Mildred says, and then spreads her other arm. “Now give this horse a hug.”

Louis laughs and does as she says, hugging her. He wants to hold her tightly but he doesn’t, knowing that he needs to be careful. He holds on for as long as he can, and forces himself not to cry as he pulls back again.

”Make me proud,” Mildred tells him, and he nods.

After a few more moments Louis leaves, whispering a small goodbye that Mildred doesn’t return (she once told him that she doesn’t like goodbyes. Louis agrees, they suck). When he returns to the waiting area Harry jumps up and walks over, and Louis’ eyes fill with tears again. He silently leans his forehead against Harry’s shoulder and starts crying. Harry wraps his arms around him, and a little while later, Niall joins the hug. Then Liam. And then Zayn too.

The five of them stay there for a little while, hugging and letting Louis cry. It’s almost like they’re a shield for him, shielding Louis from any onlookers so that he can cry freely and not have anyone see. It’s like they’re protecting him. It feels safe.  _Louis_ feels safe. It’s trusted. It’s in that moment that he realises that family is not just by blood, but by choice. 

And he chooses the four guys hugging him as his family. It’s a no-brainer.

❈

Harry drives Louis home, and the moment Louis sees Jay he hugs her and holds her tight. Harry discreetly ushers the twins upstairs and telling them to put on their pyjamas, noticing Louis’ sudden moment of weakness that he knows Louis doesn’t want his sisters to see. 

He tells Jay about what he happened at the library, and she looks shocked enough that it would be comical had it not been for the horrible story. 

“I’m so sorry you had to go through something like that alone, sweetheart,” she says, stroking the back of Louis head. “That’s horrible. But she’s okay, right? That’s a good thing, try to focus on that, not on what you saw.”

Louis does as she says and tries not to think about Mildred, on the floor, motionless. He instead focuses on Harry, who lays down with him on Louis’ bed. Neither of them are hungry, and don’t bother making any food for themselves. Louis is on his back, his gaze on the ceiling, and Harry is pretty much on top of him, his face in the crook of Louis’ neck, breathing in Louis’ scent with steady, even breaths. Louis is brushing his hand through Harry’s curls.

”Haz?” He softly says. Harry hums in reply, and he sounds tired. “I love you.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and then Louis feels Harry smile against his neck. “I love you too.”

It’s a little muffled, but Louis can still hear it and that’s enough to make him drunkenly happy. He hopes that the effect of those words never falters.

They fall asleep like that.


	25. Chapter XXV.

“Shit, Harry, do I look okay? Like I’m trying but also, like, not?”

It’s a Saturday, and Louis is meeting Gemma via skype today. To say he’s nervous would be an understatement: he’s terrified that Gemma doesn’t like him. The fact that Harry had just sprung it on him hadn’t really helped either, considering he had only said, “We’re skyping Gemma in an hour. She wants to meet you, remember?”

He had showered, and chosen some better clothes, and had even brushed his teeth even though Gemma couldn’t bloody smell his breath. He had put effort in his appearance, set on making a good first impression. It felt more important to impress Harry’s sister than his mother, but that was probably because Harry puts Gemma on such a high pedestal every time he mentions her. It’s a lot of pressure, to put it simply.

”Louis, you look fine, sit down,” Harry says, pointing to the chair behind his laptop. Louis does as he says, and Harry continues cutting up his apple, not even slightly nervous about the conversation they’re about to have with Gemma.

They’re in Harry’s kitchen, as Louis didn’t have a computer to skype on. Harry insisted on cutting up an apple for God knows what reason, which was why they were in the kitchen and not in Harry’s room or the study or whatever place else that made a lot more sense.

”Oh, my God, Harry, she’s calling.”

”Then pick up.”

”No, you’re not in the screen yet!”

”Louis!”

”Harry, I can’t just pick—hey, Gemma,” Louis says, having accidentally clicked on the green icon. 

“Oh, hey!” An excpetionally beautiful girl says from the screen, and Louis immediately sees the resemblance between her and Harry. They have the same hair colour, lips and cheekbones, only she has Anne’s eyes, a deep brown colour. “You’re Louis, then?”

”Yeah, hi, that’s me,” Louis says, giving an awkward wave. “Harry’s here as well, he’s just being a dick. Joking, he’s cutting an apple.”

Gemma laughs, and Louis silently praises himself for making her laugh. “Is he still such a health nut?”

”Oh, my God, he’s always been like that?”

”Don’t get me started, he always made sure to eat three pieces of fruit ever single day,” Gemma says, and Louis decides that he loves her. 

He grins and looks at Harry. “Do you hear that, Haz? Gemma likes me better.”

”She did _not_ say that,” Harry says, pointing his knife at Louis with a cocked eyebrow.

”No, but she meant it like that, though.”

Gemma laughs again, shaking her head. Louis turns back to the screen. “So, Louis, are you treating my brother well?”

”The best,” Harry answers for Louis, and sits down in Louis’ lap like it’s the most normal thing. For them it is, but maybe not so much for Gemma. She doesn’t look too bothered, though. “He treats me like a king.”

”So he should. Hey, is that a new colour?” Gemma asks and points at Harry’s hands that are holding his bowl with apple parts. Harry glances at his nails that are a metallic blue, before grinning.

”Yeah, Louis picked it out,” he says, which is a lie, it’s such a lie, but it clearly helps Louis’ case because Gemma looks over the moon at the fact that Louis is supportive of Harry’s feminine quirks.

“Cute,” she says. “Is mum around?”

”No, she’s at work.”

Gemma doesn’t look impressed. “On a bloody Saturday? Does she not realise that you exist?”

Harry shrugs, and he looks genuinely unbothered. Louis doesn’t know how to feel about that. “Whatever, I don’t care, gives me a chance to hang out with Lou, alone.”

And Gemma’s eyebrows shoot up, so Louis is quick to blurt out, “Not like that!”

Harry looks confused, which made no sense because the topic was pretty obvious. “What are you talking about?”

”Sex, little brother,” Gemma says, and Louis’ eyes widen and he hides his face by pressing it between Harry’s shoulder blades. He feels humiliated.

“Oh, _that_. No we haven’t done that yet,” Harry says, casually, like it’s not weird to talk about fucking your boyfriend to your sister. “I’m not ready for it and Lou isn’t pressuring me into it.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Well, Louis,” Gemma says, and Louis looks at the screen again, hoping that his blush isn’t obvious—but then again, who is he kidding? “You have my approval, if that’s what you were looking for.”

Louis visibly sags, and Gemma chuckles. “Thank God, honestly.”

Harry grins in amusement. “He was so nervous before you called Gems, you should’ve seen him.”

”You would’ve been nervous too,” Louis mutters, a little embarrassed by Harry’s revelation. Besides, isn’t he supposed to be on Louis’ side?

Gemma just looks satisfied. “I’m glad you were nervous, that means you’re serious about dating Harry.”

Harry stands up then, putting his bowl down on the table. “Going to the loo,” he says, and sends Louis a devilish grin because he damn well knows that Louis didn’t want to be left alone with Gemma—yes, he’s that nervous.

”Hey, Louis?” Gemma then says, and Louis focused on the screen again. “My mum’s not in the country for Christmas. Do you know anything about Harry’s plans?”

”He’s spending Christmas with my family, they adore him almost as much as I do,” Louis explains, and Gemma looks both relieved and disappointed.

”Right, I see. That’s good, I guess,” she says, and Louis asks her, “Do you want to come too?” before he even realises it.

It’s silent for a little while. “You could surprise Harry,” Louis then adds, now set on trying to convince Gemma to come. “He’d love it. So would I.”

Gemma nods slowly. “Sounds fun, yeah,” she says, and then beams. “Fuck it, why not?”

And Louis grins. They exchange phone numbers before Harry comes back so that they can keep in contact without Harry’s knowledge, and then continue talking.

”So, when did you two start dating?” Gemma asks, and pulls out a bag of Doritos from behind the camera. It proves that she and Harry are incredibly different, at least when it comes to eating habits.

“November 18th,” Louis answers immediately. The date is engraved in his mind; he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget it. “Not that long ago.”

Gemma smiles. “You must like him a lot, huh?”

”I love him,” Louis says, and then freezes because had _not_ meant to say that to Gemma like that. 

Gemma looks equally surprised, and she stutters for a few moments. “I... see,” she says, before chuckling. “Did you tell him that?”

Louis clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “Harry told me first. Via flowers.”

”Gloxinia,” he and Gemma simultaneously say, and Gemma smiles. “Yeah, he told me that he’d want to declare his love like that to someone, someday.”

 _Declare his love_. Louis feels like he’s floating. “He’s a romantic.”

”He is,” Gemma agrees, and Harry chooses that moment to return and sits down on Louis’ lap again.

”What’re you two talking about?” He asks, and Louis and Gemma simultaneously say, “Makeup.” 

Yes, Louis really likes Gemma now. They’re going to get along just fine.

Harry frowns, grabbing his bowl with apple again. “You don’t wear makeup,” he says to Louis, who smiles and shrugs.

”Need to get you something for Christmas,” he says, and glances at Gemma. “Got a pretty good present idea now, actually.

“Really?” Harry asks, and then smiles. “Don’t spend too much on me, though. Don’t like that.”

”So you get to spend on me but I can’t spend on you?”

”Yes.”

 ❈

Tuesday night changes things between Harry and Louis. 

They’re sitting in Louis’ room, and it’s already getting late, nearly eleven pm. Tom had sent Louis home early (nine pm, a new record) because one of the cooks fell ill and Tom himself wasn’t feeling too great either. There hadn’t been any new customers for the last half hour anyway. Of course, Louis had immediately called Harry, which is how they ended up like this.

Louis’ sisters were already in bed and asleep, and Jay went to bed a few minutes ago. Harry is reading on Louis’ bed, and Louis is trying to do some homework. His concentration isn’t exactly at its best, however, because he’s been stuck on the same question for the last ten minutes.

He sighs deeply and closes his book, both loud so that Harry can hear it. When Harry doesn’t respond in any way, Louis sighs again. This time, Harry looks up with an amused smile.

”Yes?”

”Can I please stop and, like, kiss you instead?” Louis pleads, as it had been Harry who had forced him to do his homework in the first place. 

Harry pretends to think for a few moments before he tosses his book aside and says, “I prefer you’d kiss me.”

Louis doesn’t need to be told twice and almost runs over to Harry, climbing over him and straddling his lap before connecting their lips. It was full on, open-mouthed, almost sexual kiss. Louis loved the way Harry’s body melted into his. The way their lips fit like two puzzle pieces. The way Harry relented as Louis played with his hair and held him tighter and tighter.

Their kisses always felt safe to Louis, a different kind of safe that he couldn’t explain using words, or even explain in any other way at all. 

They snogged for a couple of minutes, but when Louis’ hands started travelling too much for Harrry’s liking, the latter stopped kissing back and turned his head away, bringing his hands to his chest and fidgeting with his ring finger. Louis had to suppress a sigh as he sat back on Harry’s thighs.

He grabbed one of Harry’s hands and weaved their fingers together. “Haz?” He tries, and feels thankful when Harry looks at him without hesitation. At least that shows Harry still trusts him. “You know I’d never pressure you into anything you wouldn’t want to do, right?”

Harry nods. “I know. ‘S’why I love you.”

And Louis smiles so widely that he thinks he must look a little mental. “I love you too,” he says, but then turns a little more serious. “I know you’re not ready for, like, sex, and stuff, but. I mean, like, when? Like I said, I don’t want to pressure you, at all, but I’m starting to shrivel up I think.”

That makes Harry laugh, and he shakes his head a little before he replies. “It’s not like I don’t want to,” he says, carefully. “Because I do want to. Have sex, I mean. It’s just that I—I don’t know, nevermind, it’s dumb, forget it.”

“No,” Louis immediately says. “No, I won’t. Sex requires communication. Like, what we think are do’s and don’t’s, and I don’t know what you’re okay with if you don’t talk to me.”

Harry smiles a little, and he looks more comfortable, more relaxed by Louis’ words. “I know,” he mumbles. “I don’t know, it’s—I guess I’m just afraid that it’s, like, going to be awkward? During _and_ afterwards.”

”I can promise you I’ll try to make as less awkward as I can,” Louis is quick to say. “But, you have to remember that this is both our first time, so it’s bound to be awkward.”

Harry shakes his head, sitting up a bit more. “No, no, I don’t mean, like, what you’re talking about, I mean that we’re going to be, like, awkward around each other after.” He sighs. “Like, what if you think I’m bad at this and that you don’t actually love me? Or I will be too uncomfortable around you and we’ll end up breaking up?”

There’s a lot of stuff that Louis fears, and a breakup with harry is pretty much at the top of that list. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” he says. “There’s no way that’s going to happen, you could kill someone and I’d still want to date you.” He then furrows his brows. “Wait, are you, like, you know... asexual? It’s totally cool if you are, we can figure something out for me if we have to.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m... I’m not. Thank you for considering that, though, that’s very sweet.”

”Of course, love.”

”I’m just so scared it’s going to mess us up because I really,” he looks Louis straight in his eyes, “ _really_ don’t want to fuck things up with you, I can’t afford losing you.”

Louis beams. “And you won’t,” he says, and kisses Harry again. After a minute or so, he pulls back and looks into Harry’s eyes. “Do you trust me? Like, enough for me to try something?”

Harry’s eyes are widened and he looks nervous as he nods.

”Just... let me know when you get uncomfortable and I’ll call the whole thing off, okay?” Louis says, and he waits for Harry to whisper “Okay,” before he kisses him again.

He takes his time now, starts at the beginning again. He starts slow, just brushing their lips together innocently. He holds back and only deepens the kiss when he feels Harry’s hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues slide together, and it’s still slow, but hotter now, more sexual. It doesn’t take long before they’re really speeding up and their breathing is ragged and heavy. 

Louis carefully tugs Harry’s shirt up his torso and Harry breaks the kiss to let Louis pull his shirt off. Louis tosses the shirt on the floor and looks into Harry’s eyes, trying to find some sort of hesitation, something that tells Louis that he’s not fully on board, but there’s nothing. He trusts Louis, fully, and they simultaneously move their heads forward again. 

The kiss is different again, a lot more passionate and hungrier than before. There’s an objective now, a goal to reach, and it seems that they’re both set on reaching it. Louis pulls back again to take off his own shirt, and he’s glad when Harry is quick to reconnect their lips, almost desperately. 

He lets one of his hands rest on Harry’s shoulder, and starts running his fingers down his torso. Harry makes a small sound when Louis’ fingers brush over one of his nipples, and Louis is tempted to spend more time exploring that, but doesn’t, afraid that Harry might not appreciate it. 

His fingers travel lower and lower, creating goosebumps on Harry’s stomach. Louis pauses his hand just above the waistline of Harry’s skinny jeans, waiting for a ‘no’. When he doesn’t get one he carefully undoes the button there, and Harry’s body tenses almost immediately: it was different from all the other times, however, because this time, he tensed in anticipation instead of fear.

Then Louis realises that Harry might not even be hard yet, which would probably only make the situation awkward if Louis would tug his jeans down to find that Harry wasn’t into it enough. Awkward was the whole thing they were trying to avoid in the first place. Instead of slipping his hand past Harry’s boxers or even his jeans, he rested his hand outside the clothing, covering his crotch.

Harry breathes in sharply, which makes Louis pull back from their still ongoing kiss. “Is this okay? Are you okay?” He asks, and Harry nods, gripping his shoulder blades.

”Yeah, yeah, just... keep going, please?” He asks, and after a second of letting Harry catch his breath, Louis kisses him again and then starts palming him through his jeans.

Their position isn’t ideal, because Harry’s head is leaning against the headboard of Louis’ bed and is forcing his neck in an odd angle, so Louis discreetly pulls him down more so that his head is comfortably on a pillow instead of wood. Harry seems to out of it to even realise it. 

Louis can feel Harry growing in his jeans, which means he’s doing it right and that Harry is finally, _finally_  properly enjoying this. All the previous make outs always resulted in Louis being half-hard, whereas Harry didn’t look affected at all—at least, not down there. He always pulled back at the last moment, but now he’s not, he’s actually into this and it’s fucking _happening_.

After a minute or so, Louis slips his hands past the waistline of Harry’s skinny jeans and continues palming him. Now that the barrier between Harry and Louis’ hand is only a flimsy material and not the thick material of his jeans, Harry’s reaction is a lot more intense than before. He grips Louis’ shoulderblades tighter, now really clinging onto Louis, and he kisses him fiercely, feverishly, like he needs a distraction from what’s happening.

Louis himself is having trouble staying level-headed from the way Harry is kissing him. He keeps telling himself to stay at least a little bit conscious because this is about Harry, damnit, and he can’t fuck this up—God forbid it messes their relationship up.

”I’m going to...” Louis says, but doesn’t finish his sentence because he doesn’t need to; Harry knows what he’s going to do. “Are you okay with that?”

Harry nods, his eyes a little distant.

”And are you okay?” Louis asks. “Like, no second thoughts? ‘Cause I’m not doing this if you’re not 100 per cent sure.”

Harry smiles and kisses Louis three times in quick succession. “I’m sure. Please don’t stop, that would just be cruel at this point.”

Louis chuckles and kisses Harry again, deeply and fiercely and so fucking passionately. He palms Harry a couple of more times, before he slips his hand past the waistline of his boxers.

Harry breathes in sharply and then makes a sound that resembles a small moan. Louis pauses and sees that his eyes are screwed shut and his brows are furrowed. “Are you...?”

”Yes,” Harry quickly answers, nodding hastily. “Yes, bloody hell, yes.”

If it hadn’t been for the situation, Louis would’ve chuckled at Harry’s eagerness. All ideas about laughter go right out the window when he starts pumping his hand up and down slowly and Harry starts breathing a lot heavier.

It’s new, very new, and Louis is honestly trying his best. He retreats his hand quickly to not so charmingly lick his palm to create a lubricant. When he returns his hand to where it had previously been, it’s a lot easier for Louis to jack Harry off, and it seems that Harry has noticed the sudden different feel of Louis’ hand because he moans instantly.

Louis keeps the pace slow, agonisingly slow for himself, but he doesn’t dare speed up because this isn’t about him, it’s about Harry—and Louis is so impatient, but right now, he’s the most patient man to have ever walked the face of the earth.

Harry’s eyes open but stay half-lidded as he searches for Louis’, and when their eyes meet he says softly, almost shyly, “Can you, like, um... go faster, a little?”

”Of course, love,” Louis is quick to say, and fastens his pace. Harry lets out a small moan that’s almost shy, and he bites his lip hard, clearly trying to keep his sounds in. Louis isn’t having any of it and leans in close to whisper into Harry’s ear. “You can let go, baby, I want to hear you.”

And it seems enough encouragement for Harry who lets out a much louder moan immediately after. 

After another minute or so—a minute filled with moans that are driving Louis mental—Harry entangled a hand in Louis hair and moans out, “Faster, Lou. Faster.”

Louis is preening at the fact that Harry isn’t as shy anymore, and that he’s asking Louis for stuff like this. Of course, he immediately fastens his pace again, and this time, he gradually does so, so that Harry doesn’t have to keep asking for him to go faster. 

Harry is a mess under him, completely falling apart. He’s moaning and groaning and sometimes even whining—it’s so loud at certain points that Louis has to kiss him to muffle the sounds, because there are five females asleep in the house and Louis would prefer they’d stay like that.

He can tell Harry starts approaching an orgasm because he starts bucking his hips up in time with Louis’ hand. “Lou, I’m gonna—“ Harry starts, but cuts himself off with a moan.

Louis doubles his efforts, because Harry doesn’t need to finish his sentence to tell Louis exactly what he wants to hear. Harry’s having trouble deciding where his hands should be, because one moment they’re scratching up Louis’ back, then they’re in Louis’ hair and then they’re tangled in the sheets of the bed only to return to Louis’ hair.

Louis leans in beside Harry’s ear again. “Come on, Haz, come for me,” he whispers, and starts pressing kisses to Harry’s neck. “Doing so good for me, baby, come on. Come for me, baby.”

And it only takes a few more seconds before Harry’s head snaps back against the pillow and his mouth opens wide. He doesn’t moan loudly like Louis expected, but instead, his orgasm is awfully quiet. His back arches and his mouth stays wide open before he collapses and streams of come end up on his stomach. He moans and it’s loud the first few times, before he starts quieting down until he’s nothing but a panting mess. 

Louis glances down and is honestly glad that Harry wasn’t wearing a shirt. He isn’t sure how he’d explain that particular situation to his mum. (“ _Mum, how do I wash out my boyfriend’s come from his shirt from when I wanked him off last night?_ ”)

Harry’s eyes open again, and they search for Louis’. Once they meet, the two of them kiss each other feverishly, but it doesn’t last too long.

”Did so good, Haz, so good,” Louis mumbles against his lips. “Did so well, so proud of you.”

”Love you,” Harry replies, and Louis smiles widely.

”Love you so so much, darling,” he says, and Harry looks unblinkingly happy and tries to cuddle Louis to his chest.

Louis, however, prevents it by leaning back. “Haz, we might want to clean you up first.”

Harry glances down at his stomach and then turns a deep red, hiding his face behind his hands. “Oh, my God, yeah, that’s so gross.”

”No it isn’t,” Louis says with a frown. “You want to see something really gross?”

Harry peeks through his fingers. “What?”

And instead of answering, Louis shows, and promptly wipes his hand through the mess on Harry’s stomach. 

Harry throws his head back in a laugh. “What the fuck, Louis!” He says through his laughter.

Louis grins and stops what he’s doing—because it is gross, let’s be honest here—and just watches Harry who looks so relaxed and happy that it makes his heart clench. “I told you it was gross.” Then his eyes widen. “I could make it even grosser.”

Harry frowns, but he seems to understand what’s about to happen when Louis starts bringing his come covered hand to his mouth, and quickly stops him by shooting up and grabbing his wrist. “Jesus, Louis, what is wrong with you?” He asks, but he looks like he’s on the brink of bursting into laughter, so Louis isn’t too worried about it.

”Good question, Styles, good question. Maybe I’m just in love.”


	26. Chapter XXVI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally updated after months of not doing so. Apart from a lot of personal things that have happened that took a very big toll on me emotionally and mentally, I didn't update because I was disappointed that this fic wasn't doing so well, at least not up to my standards.
> 
> I have, however, realised that life is not about numbers and statistics, but about so much more than that. I can safely, and proudly, say that I'm doing a lot better and that I've found the world to be a lot more colourful then I used to think.
> 
> I'm back with another update, and I'm going to try to keep updating regularly despite my hectic and unpredictable schedule for the next few months.
> 
> I'm sorry, and thank you.

On a Wednesday, Louis had a free period which he spent in the cafeteria. Lunch was right after his free period, and the other four arrived at the table simultaneously. Louis immediately noticed a new bruise on Niall’s cheek. It was in the same spot, but he knew its new because it should be gone by now. There were bags under Niall’s eyes, and he looked almost miserable.

”Door again?” Louis asked as everyone sat down at the table, a little suspicious. Harry immediately put a hand on his thigh, an automatic response they had to each other lately.

Niall frowned at him before his eyes widened. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled, clearly trying to pull himself together. “No, yeah, it’s... the door, right.”

So, obviously, it wasn’t a door that was causing Niall’s bruises. Before Louis could say anything else, Camille showed up, smiling far too brightly. Everybody but Niall ignored her. “Hey, baby,” she said and sat down on his lap. “Your bruise okay?”

She reached out to Niall’s face tentatively and Niall _flinched away_ from her, which immediately made Louis draw a bunch of conclusions that he really, really hoped were incorrect. “‘S’fine,” Niall muttered, attempting to act casual. 

Camille turned to the rest at the table, who suddenly found their lunch exceptionally interesting. “He walked into a door, clutz that he is, can you believe that?” She said, and it sounded so fake that Louis had trouble with refraining from rolling his eyes.

”Really?” He asked instead and then leaned forward on his forearms, putting on an innocent smile as he focused on Camille. “How’s your relationship with Niall, huh? You two doing okay?”

”Louis, leave it,” Niall said, giving him a warning look.

”What? Can’t I show some interest in my _best mate’s_ relationship?” Louis said, still looking at Camille who was gradually looking more and more uncomfortable and nervous. “Come on, _Cam_ , spill the tea, babe.”

”Louis, fuck off,” Niall said, and then looked at Camille. “Let’s get out of here, come on.”

They stood up, and when Camille moved a little too quickly Niall flinched again and Louis felt his heart drop to his stomach.

”Nice going, mate, you just annoyed Niall into leaving,” Zayn says, raising an eyebrow at him. “The fuck is up with you?”

Louis sighed. “I’m going to say something, but I’m going to need you lot to not freak out, alright?” He said, and everyone nodded, leaning closer with furrowed brows. “I think, _think_ , that—you know, Niall—“ Louis sighed again, but this time it was at himself for not being able to just _say_ it.”I think Camille is abusing Niall. Or, like, hurting him.”

It became dead quiet at the table. Everyone looked shocked at what Louis had just said and seemed to go over his words slowly, trying to connect them to Niall’s behaviour.

”Jesus,” Harry then said, and tightly gripped Louis’ hand, his eyes widening. “Jesus.”

”I think you’re right,” Liam mumbled, leaning back in his seat and running a hand through his hair. “Yesterday, in the changing room before we had PE, he had like, three bruises on his stomach. Told me he fell down the stairs.”

Zayn shook his head to himself, staring at the table. “First it's a door, then it’s the stairs,” he summed up. “He also stopped eating, don’t know if you lot noticed that too? He like, barely eats.”

With a jolt, Louis realised he was right. He hadn’t seen Niall eat anything since last Friday: now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t even remember Niall eating anything during lunch, or when they were in the library. Usually, he asks for a bite whenever Louis eats anything, but he hadn’t asked anything that time—or any other time after that. 

How in the hell had Louis not noticed anything till now?

”Jesus,” Harry repeated, as it was apparently the only thing he was able to say anymore.

”Yeah,” Louis mumbled. “Jesus.”

”Poor Niall,” Zayn said. “What are we going to do now, though? Do we tell somebody?”

”Who would we tell?” Louis asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “I mean, the teachers would probably call the police if they even believe us, and then the police have to believe us too, and then Niall has to admit to being abused by Camille.”

”Which he won’t do, because he’s in love with her,” Zayn said in realisation. “Well, strongly likes, at least.”

Liam scratched the back of his head with a pained look on his face. “I say we invite him over somewhere. Someplace he feels safe, you know, and then we just gently break it to him.”

The others took his suggestion into consideration for a moment, before Harry was the first one to break the silence. “Yeah, let’s do it. We’ll say it’s like, rehearsals, or something, for next week.”

Oh. Right. They had to perform next Friday, at eight pm. Louis had nearly forgotten about that.

”We’ll go to his place, then?” Harry continued. “I mean, what place fo you trust more than your own house, right?”

Zayn shuffled uncomfortably, and Harry immediately realised what he has just said. “Oh, shit, no, Zayn, I didn’t—I didn’t mean it, like, that, you know.”

”No, it’s fine,” Zayn said, waving it off, and he sounded and looked sincere. “It’s not the way it always is, but it’s definitely the way it’s supposed to be.”

There was an awkward silence, which Liam was quick to break. “Niall doesn’t deserve this, what the hell.” 

And Louis could not agree more. Niall was the nicest person he had ever met (Harry was the kindest, it was a close tie) and would never hurt a fly. It was unfair because Louis knew how badly he wanted a girlfriend, and then he ended up with fucking Camille, who was clearly the worst person to have ever walked into Niall’s life.

 

Louis managed to hold off on confronting Niall for a day before he crumbles and invites Niall to go to Nando’s with him. Niall declines (“Trying out this new diet, mate,” he had said, and had sounded so tired and when the fuck did Niall even diet?), but Louis doesn’t relent and then suggest to just hanging out at Niall’s place. Niall had given in, which is how Louis finds himself sitting in his room on a Friday afternoon.

He no longer has shifts at the library: when they find a new main librarian he’ll have to reapply to the position he previously occupied, but he doesn’t see himself doing that. The only reason he stayed at that library was Mildred, not because he adored books so much. Now that Mildred is gone and living in Brighton, there’s really no reason for him to go work at the library again. 

This leaves him with only one job left, like a regular teenager. 

It’s not as catastrophic as he expects, however, because Jay and Mark had finalised their divorce and Jay had gotten 20.000 pounds and a car as a settlement. And even though he’d rather not, he and his sisters keep the last name; Tomlinson. 

They have more money now—and a car, a fucking car, holy shit—so Louis doesn’t need to work three jobs for at least three months. As soon as Jay gets a call back from the law firm where she has applied to a secretary position and she actually gets the position, Louis doesn’t need to work three jobs ever again, or even two. He can’t wait, honestly.

But his mind isn't really focused on that right now, however, because Niall is just sat on his bed and is staring at the wall instead of blabbering or playing Fifa like he’s supposed to do—like he always does. 

They actually sat in silence for a solid ten minutes before Louis spoke up. “So how’ve you been?”

Niall didn't answer.

“Niall,” Louis said, and Niall snapped his head to him with a hum. “How’ve you been?”

”Yeah, yeah, fine,” Niall answered, sitting up a bit straighter. “Bit tired, I guess.”

"And Camille?" Louis asked, and his heart clenched when he saw Niall visibly startle at the name. 

"She's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Louis, what the hell is your problem lately?"

Louis swallowed his protests. He couldn't have Niall get angry at him, not now. He needed Niall to open up to him, not shut down even more. He needed to ease into the topic, he couldn't just outright _ask_ Niall if his girlfriend was physically abusing him.

"Niall, if I'd ask you something personal right now, would you lie to me?" He asked, and Niall furrowed his brows together.

"Why would I lie?"

Louis didn't answer it. "Is Camille, like...” he bit his lip when the words got stuck in his throat. “Is she making you lose weight?”

Niall hesitated with answering, which was enough to know that the actual answer was yes. “I was eating really unhealthily, mate,” he said, attempting to look casual by shrugging. “She's helping me make healthier choices."

"Healthier choices," Louis said, trying not to sound too bitter or judgemental. "You were healthy enough."

"Not even close, mate," Niall said, shaking his head and laying down on his bed.

Louis, who was sat by Niall's desk, waited for a follow-up to Niall's words, but never actually got one. Niall stayed silent as he stared up at the ceiling, clearly troubled by something he was refusing to talk to Louis about. 

"Is she..." Louis said, trailing off when he felt himself get scared of the answer. Then he remembered that this was Niall, his best friend in the entire world, who had never judged Louis for a single thing. He had been there for Louis when the latter was working at a lowlife strip club, when he was down in the dust with his family, when he passed out during classes and so many other countless times. 

Now, it was time for Louis to be there for Niall.

"Niall, you know you're my brother?" Louis said, making sure to look straight into Niall's eyes when Niall looked up.

"And you're mine, lad," he said, laying back down after a second or so.

"So, please, please answer me this honestly," Louis said, letting go of a soft sigh. "Is she hurting you? Camille?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. The longer it lasted, the more and more nervous Louis got. 

Niall suddenly sighed heavily. "Not in the way you think."

Louis' heart broke. "Then in what way?"

"It's my own fault," Niall said, not exactly answering the question, strategically avoiding it, which only served to add to Louis' fear. "I piss her off. I shouldn't do that, I'm practically asking for it by annoying her so much. I deserve it."

"Fuck off, no you don't," Louis said, sitting up a bit straighter. "She's  _hurting_ you, Niall. There's no excuse for that."

Niall didn't respond.

"You have to dump her."

"I won't."

"You have to."

Niall sat up on his bed, giving Louis a glare. " _I won't_ ," he pointedly said. "She's my girlfriend, I'm not about to dump her because of some fights."

"She's hitting you, that's not just 'some fights'," Louis said. He'd read about what Niall was doing right now online: people tend to make excuses for their abuser because they love them.

"If I have to break up with her, you have to break up with Harry," Niall said. It was some sort of pathetic attempt at trying to maintain his ego, almost as if he was trying to save himself. "If you're forcing me to be single, I'm forcing you to be single."

Abruptly standing up, Louis marched over to the bed. "Harry makes me happy, he takes care of me, he makes sure that I'm okay constantly," he said, pointing a finger at Niall. "Don't you fucking dare compare the dysfunctional bullshit you call a relationship to mine."

Niall looked taken aback, only to suddenly climb off the bed, getting all up in Louis' face while Louis refused to back down for even a second. "She makes me happy too, Louis!" 

"That's nothing compared to the bad things she makes you feel," Louis countered, in disbelief of what he was hearing. "You have to look at it from both sides, Niall. She makes you happy, but how much is that compared to when she makes you feel like shit?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Niall said, his face contorted in anger. "You've known Harry for two months, there's nothing you know about love that you can tell me."

Louis scoffed, shaking his head as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that Niall seemed so convinced that Louis was only out to get him, instead of protecting or trying to help him. Then he realised that acting angry like he was doing right now wouldn't help to serve the situation. He was only making it worse.

Knowing this, Louis took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of Niall's bed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just trying to help you, Niall," he quietly said. "You're hurting. Camille's the cause of that. You can't deny that."

Niall seemed to deflate as well and sat down beside Louis. "I know what she's doing is wrong," he said. "I just... I love her, you know, and I can't get myself to blame her or hate her for it."

"Break it off," Louis said, ready to fall on his knees and plea if he had to. "Please. You're my brother, and I want you to be happy, and the last thing that's making you happy is Camille. Break up with her, if not for yourself, then for me."

"What if I can't?"

"You can. And if you really can't, I'll do it with you, but you have to."

And for the for the first time in his entire two years of knowing Niall, Louis saw him cry. He didn't even notice it at first, just assuming that Niall wasn't replying because he didn't want to, but then he heard a sniffle and looked up and found tears steadily escaping Niall's eyes. Something inside of him broke, and without hesitation, Louis reached over and pulled Niall against him, allowing his best friend to sob into his chest while he silently rubbed his back.

Louis didn't bother talking anymore when he knew that somehow, he had managed to convince Niall to end things with Camille. When and how it was going to happen didn't matter to Louis at the moment. What did matter, however, was that Niall was going to be okay again.

Because like he said, Niall was his brother, and there was no way Louis would allow his family to hurt.


	27. Chapter XXVII.

It took a lot for Louis to eventually leave Niall's place. He was worried about his best friend, which made sense given the circumstances, and he had actually been planning on staying the night, just in case. Only when he was reminded that it was Friday via a text from Harry asking where he was did he realise that he had to leave because it was tradition to spend Friday nights together with Harry. Niall had reassured him he was going to be okay, and Louis had reluctantly complied.

Harry was spread out on Louis' bed beside Louis, rambling on about a new tattoo he wanted to get and the plans for Louis' birthday and Christmas hangovers and anything that apparently seemed to come to his mind. Because had clearly noticed that Louis wasn't feeling very talkative, he didn't force him to reply and simply talked until Louis would open up on his own. Louis loved him for that, for being so infinitely understanding and kind. He could only aspire to be the same. In Harry’s eyes, he probably already was, because Harry was just that kind and set on always seeing the best in others.

“Imagine us, sitting ‘round the Christmas tree with hangovers, having to entertain your sisters,” Harry said, adding a giggle. “Your mum all annoyed, trying to make a Christmas dinner.”

He giggled again. “I’d probably have to help her with cooking, but I’d just end up messing it all up.”

As Harry talked, Louis wondered if it was the right time to tell him that he had talked to Niall about Camille and that the problem was, mostly, resolved. Harry seemed to be happy at the moment, in his element and unbothered. Bringing up the ‘Camille situation’ (Louis refused to call it the ‘Niall situation') could potentially destroy that, which was the last thing Louis wanted. He wanted Harry to be happy at all times, but there were simply things they had to discuss. Couples had to talk about things. Communication was key, wasn’t it?

“…I mean, it’s not I’d mind it, per se, I’d love to do her nail polish, but I reckon Daisy is still a bit young for it and…”

God, Louis could listen to him for hours. The way he spoke, his voice, the caring undertone in each and every one of his sentences… Louis loved it. Loved him. Which was why he needed to be honest with Harry, because lying about something could hurt their relationship, and Louis wasn’t about to let that happen.

“…red is just too difficult to get off, even though it looks really good, so maybe blue? You know, that baby blue—“

“I need to tell you something.”

Harry immediately leaned up on his elbows, meeting Louis’ eyes with a curious and concerned look. “Is it bad?” He asked when his eyes suddenly widened. “There isn’t someone else, is there?”

As a reply, Louis leaned over and pressed his lips to Harry’s, eliciting a hum of surprise and a sudden hand on Louis’ thigh. “How could there be anyone else,” Louis softly said, lying back down again, “if you exist?”

Harry smiled shyly and bit his lip. “That’s a good answer,” he said. “It wasn’t a test, but you passed.”

Then he stroked his hand up and down Louis’ thigh comfortingly, his gaze turning concerned again. “What was it that you wanted to talk about?”

Louis bit his lip and looked down at the hand on his leg. "You know Niall and Camille?" he said. "How we'd talk to Niall about their relationship, all of us?"

Harry nodded with a small frown, clearly trying to piece together what Louis was telling him, only for a look of realisation to cross over his face when he finally seemed to understand what Louis was trying to say. He sat up, his hand sliding off Louis' leg and leaving behind a cold spot. "You talked to Niall? Alone?"

"Yeah," Louis said, trying not to focus on what appeared to be gradually increasing aversion on Harry's expression. "I just couldn't... sit by and watch."

"How did he take it?" Harry asked, and it was clear to Louis that he was trying to stay calm. 

"He said he's going to dump her," Louis said, swallowing thickly and getting nervous under Harry's gaze. "I mean, he's going to do it while we're nearby, probably at school, so that isn't going to be until after the weekend."

"So it's okay?" Harry asked with a hopeful voice.

"It's going to be."

Harry puffed out a breath and laid back down on his back, seemingly relieved at Louis' answer and the outcome of his actions. "I'm glad that's resolved," he said, before frowning. "Or, mostly resolved, I guess."

"Yeah," Louis said, reaching over and brushing Harry's curls from his forehead. 

After a couple of seconds, Harry glanced over, his expression a bit troubled. "I have to tell you something as well."

It was a very chilling thing to hear, and Louis now understood why Harry had reacted so tensely to his words. "Don't tell me that there's someone else for you."

Harry laughed and shook his head, putting his hand back on Louis' thigh. "Can promise you there isn't."

"Then what's going on, love? What did you want to tell me?"

The bright expression on Harry's face disappeared and was replaced by that troubled look again. "So, you know how we have our exams in May?" he asked, waiting for Louis to nod before he continued. "Yeah, so I've been applying to uni's, a bit. Couple of them."

"Oh," Louis said. The fact that Harry was applying to universities wasn't the problem: it was the fact that Louis couldn't. Despite having a bit of money now, Louis still couldn't afford to go to uni, and definitely wouldn't be able to pay off any student loans due to their still rocky financial situation. 

All in all, it was a bit of a sore topic, universities. It was one of the many topics that reminded them of the different lives they lived, about the gap that would always be there, ignored or not. 

"Yeah."

"Are you—did you hear back from any yet?" Louis asked, proud of Harry yet reluctant to the idea of his boyfriend building a life while he himself was stuck in whatever he was doing at the moment.

"No, it's too early," Harry said, rolling over on his stomach and resting his chin on top of Louis' chest. Louis felt something flutter in his abdomen at the affection. "There's one more thing, though."

"What, then?"

"There's one uni that I applied to, and it's like, proper big, you know?"

Louis furrowed his brows, not quite understanding what Harry was getting at. "You mean, like, prestigious?"

Harry bit his lip. "Only five per cent of vocalist applicants get in each year."

"Shit," Louis said, his eyebrows shooting up. "How many people apply?"

"Like, 12.000?"

"Fucking hell."

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded, looking down and fidgeting with the hem of Louis' shirt. "Around 600 people get in," he said, and let go of a heavy sigh. "I mean, it's my first choice, obviously, but the chances of me getting in are, like, minimal."

"Which school?" Louis asked, hoping that Harry would name a school he actually knew himself so that he could make Harry feel better about it.

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Because I know you," Harry said, giving Louis a look. "And as soon as I tell you which school it is, you're going to look it up on the internet and you're going to see how great it is and you'll get your hopes up for me and I don't want that."

Louis gave him a sympathetic look. "Are you that convinced you're not going to get in?"

Harry shrugged, resting his chin on Louis' chest and focusing his eyes on Louis' mouth. because the eyes apparently seemed too big of a task. Not that Louis was holding it against him. "The uni, it's... it doesn't teach the type of music my mum wants me to make once I finish my A-levels," Harry quietly said. "It's classical, mum wants pop music. The vocal arts curriculum is opera, and I mean  _fuck_ that, I hate opera, but my mum, she thinks any vocal training is good training. Especially opera, I mean if you can sing opera, pop music is as easy as it can get."

Instead of interrupting, Louis let Harry rant. He was clearly desperate to get it out of his system, and something told Louis that he was the only one who knew about this particular development in Harry's life.

"If she knew about my application _there_ , she'd want me to follow the vocal arts, but I don't want that at all," Harry continued, and gradually, Louis started seeing a look of desperation in his eyes. "I want to follow the piano program. I've seen so many videos about it, so many people talked about it online...  _that's_ what I want."

He sighed and pressed his face into Louis' chest, his words turning muffled. "Mum would do anything in her power to change my mind about it. Which is why I'm not telling her I applied until I get in, and if I get rejected I won't even tell her about it. Although it's not like I'm going to get accepted anyway."

"Shut up," Louis said, lifting Harry's head. "Stop saying that you won't get in. You're insanely talented, they'd be fucking mental not to take you."

Harry frowned deeply. "You know who went to that school? Viola Davis," he said. "Nina Simone. Kevin Spacey. Robin Williams! Robin fucking Williams! How am I comparable to him?"

"You're not, because he's an actor and you're a musician," Louis said. "And if a rapist like Kevin Spacey can get in, you definitely can."

"He wasn't a rapist when he got accepted," Harry defeatedly mumbled, having nothing valid to bring into Louis' argument.

"How do you know? Did you know him personally at the time?" Louis said, smiling when he saw Harry suppress a smile himself. "Fuck Kevin Spacey. Fuck all those people. You're you and that's enough, comparing yourself to them doesn't mean shit."

After a moment of simply staring at Louis, Harry leaned closer and gently kissed him, pulling back with a small smile. "I love you," he said. "Very much."

"I love you very much too," Louis said with a satisfied grin, pushing away all the worries he had about what would happen to their relationship once Harry was off to university somewhere and he was stuck at home taking care of his sister. He didn't want to make himself sad and refused to think about it.

"Your grammar sucks," Harry said, suddenly sitting up and stretching his arms above his head, revealing a sliver of his stomach. Louis tried not to stare. He failed. "Your birthday's coming up."

"Little over two weeks," Louis said, sitting up as well for no other reason than to be at eye-level with his boyfriend. "Why?'

Harry gave him a small frown. "Nevermind the 'why', explain why you don't sound excited."

Louis gave him a weak shrug and looked down at his lap. "I'll be eighteen," he said, as if that explained everything. "Being eighteen is expensive. Would rather stay seventeen 'til we got a better income."

"Don't know what I can say to make you feel better," Harry softly said, reaching over and rubbing a hand up and down Louis' shin. "There's nothing we can do about it."

"I know, I know," Louis said, running an exasperated hand through his hair. "I just—fuck, it's so shit, having to focus on money all the time. Stressing me the hell out."

A silence fell over the room, and once again Louis regretted throwing all his worries out on the table, because now he was burdening Harry with them as well, and that was the last thing he wanted, for Harry to be stressed about things that were out of his control. Hell, some things were out of Louis' control too. 

Harry leaned over and pressed his lips to Louis' neck, gently pushing him back down on the bed and swinging a leg over his lap so that he was straddling Louis' waist. He pecked Louis' lips. "We'll win you that scholarship," he mumbled against his lips. "We're going to win that talent show and get the scholarship so you can go to uni."

"Big plans," Louis said with a bittersweet smile. He didn't believe in what Harry was saying. It sounded perfect, for them to win the scholarship, but their chances were so small, too small, and Louis simply didn't believe in the idea of them actually winning. It was a little too perfect to be realistic.

"You don't believe in it?" Harry asked with a small frown. It didn't surprise Louis that he had picked up on Louis' thoughts, again.

"It's not that I don't believe in it," Louis said, twisting the truth a little bit as he ran a hand through Harry's curls. "It's more like I'm looking at this differently than you are. I'm not exactly used to things going my way, so winning the scholarship... it doesn't sound real, I suppose."

Harry pecked his lips. "We're going to win," he said. "I promise."

And somehow, Louis found himself believing him.


	28. Chapter XXVIII.

Louis knew that biting his nails off wasn't going to help anyone in the current situation, but that didn't mean that it urged him to stop biting his nails. If anything, the situation made the ruining of his nails justifiable. 

Niall was, after all, finally breaking up with Camille.

It was a Tuesday, and after a long Monday of explaining to the others that Louis had already spoken to Niall and then avoiding Camille all day, it had now finally come to the inevitably nasty breakup. Louis was probably more nervous than Niall was, which said a lot, considering the absolute hell Niall had been going through the past few weeks.

From where he was sat on one of the benches just outside the entrance to the schoolyard, Louis had a perfect view of Niall and Camille under a tree on the other side. He had to seriously refrain himself from running over there to... help? He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do, he just knew that he wanted to do _something_ if only to help calm his nerves.

"Oh, shit, it's happening," Louis suddenly heard beside him, and when he looked up, found Zayn standing beside him.

"Yeah."

After a second or so, Zayn sat down beside Louis, running a nervous hand through his hair. “How do you reckon she’s taking it?”

”Don’t know,” Louis said, returning his gaze to Niall and Camille. “They weren’t dating very long. Can’t be that bad.”

”You believe that yourself?” Zayn said, raising an eyebrow at Louis, who realised that _no_ , _he_ _didn’t_ _believe_ _that_ _either_.

There was a short silence.

”Oh my God, he’s coming back,” Louis said when he noticed Niall walking over to them, and stood up alongside Zayn. When Niall stopped in front of them, it stayed silent until he sighed.

”Guess that was it, then,” he said. “It’s done.”

Louis swallowed thickly. “How did it go?”

Niall glanced over his shoulder. Camille was crying, leaning against the tree, but no one seemed to feel bad for her; Louis definitely didn’t. “Better than I expected,” Niall then said, turning his gaze back to his friends. “She actually apologised. Was too late, but it was an apology.”

”Better than nothing, you mean?” Zayn asked.

Niall nodded. “Suppose,” he said. “Didn’t accept her apology, though. She said she’d change and everything. Nearly believed her.”

”I’m just glad this whole thing is over,” Louis said, maybe a bit too honest for a rather delicate situation. “You’re going to find someone so much better than Vanilla.”

Niall chuckled, shaking his head a little. “Vanilla,” he mumbled to himself with an amused smile. “I’m glad it’s over too. Kind of done with love though. I’m fine with staying single for the next couple of months.”

Zayn gave him a sympathetic smile and put an arm around his shoulders. “Come on,” he said, pulling Niall inside. “Let’s go find Harry and Liam.”

Louis followed them with a small smile. He was happy that Niall was now done with Camille, and that he no longer needed to worry for his best friend. It was probably for the best that Niall was done for love for a little while. He would've been too, had the same thing happened to him. It was probably going to take a while for Niall to bounce back when it came down to relationships, but if it were to get too tough, Louis would be there to help him. That went without saying.

Slowly but surely, Louis felt things were finally starting to look up.

 

❈

"Are you nervous?"

"For the last time, mum, no."

"You look nervous."

"Don't bully him, Fizzy. She's right, though, Louis dear, you look nervous."

For what had to be the twenty-fifth time that evening, Louis let go of an agitated sigh and gave his family a look. It was a couple of days later, a Friday night, and Louis found himself talking to his family inside his school's auditorium. It was only a couple minutes until the second round of performances for the talent show would start, and Louis was, contrary to _apparently_ popular belief, fine. For some reason, he wasn't as nervous as he was last time. It could be to blame on the spliff he had shared with the boys a couple hours ago, but that was up for debate.

Louis was just glad that his mum had managed to come to support them. Her shifts at the restaurant she worked at were incredibly irregular, and she could've been called in tonight. Because they still hadn't got a call back from the firm Jay had applied to, Louis and his mum had, albeit incredibly sad and disappointed, reluctantly accepted the fact that she hadn't got the job. Louis was a bit angry that the firm hadn't even had the decency to give her a phone call about it.

He had pushed that to the back of his mind for tonight.

"Love the bashing," he sarcastically said, giving his mother a look. "Really, right before my act, this is exactly what I need."

"Oh, sweetheart," his mother said, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "You're going to be fine. It's going to be great, you're going to blow everyone away, I can feel it."

"Which song are you singing anyway?" Lottie said, successfully cutting into the conversation.

Louis ruffled her hair with a taunting grin. "That's a surprise, Lots," he said, his grin widening when Lottie slapped his arm with a scowl on her face.

All of a sudden he felt a hand on his lower back that stayed there. When he looked up, he found that, of course, it was Harry, who had a soft smile on his face. "Hi, it's nice to see you're all here," he said to Louis' family, then giving Louis his own private, much sweeter smile and a kiss on the cheek. 

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, darling," Jay said, her smile as bright as her voice. "Louis is being very secretive about the song you're going to be performing."

"It's a surprise, innit?" Harry said with a playful grin.

"That's what I said," Louis said, satisfied with Harry's reply before he grabbed his boyfriend's hand. "Now, we're going backstage, please don't embarrass me."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "He was trying to say 'enjoy', I think."

"Whatever," Louis said, rolling his eyes as he tugged Harry away to go to the room they had to wait in before it was their turn on stage, giving his family a final wave. 

Inside the room where everyone had to wait, Niall, Liam and Zayn were on a couch, softly discussing something that Louis couldn't hear. The five of them had decided to wear more matching clothes than they did during their audition, a sort of black with a hint of red [aesthetic](http://www4.pictures.zimbio.com/gi/Louis+Tomlinson+Press+Room+MTV+Video+Music+7HhOObgDvpRl.jpg), Louis wearing his infamous Love Will Tear Us Apart shirt. They looked a lot more put together than last time, to be frank.

"What are you lads talking about?" Louis asked as soon as he and Harry sat down beside the others, and only then did he notice Zayn's sombre expression. "What's going on?"

Zayn sighed, glancing at Liam as if he was looking for some sort of support before he answered. "My dad's here," he said, and Louis immediately understood the bad mood.

"Oh," was all he could get out.

"Well, that's good, right?" Harry then said. Thank God for Harry Styles. "It means he's here to support you."

"Or he's here to drag my arse off the stage as soon as I get on," Zayn muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

"He wouldn't do that," Louis said. "He's too obsessed with his public image to embarrass himself like that."

Despite it being a bit of a tactless thing to say, Zayn laughed and lightly smacked Louis' arm. "I hate how accurate that is," he said.

Louis only grinned.

It was then that they heard a muffled voice announce the beginning of the evening, and instantly, Louis' nerves spiked. They were up third, which meant that they had about fifteen minutes to mentally prepare themselves.

"You okay?" Harry's hushed voice said, and Louis met Harry's eyes with a nervous smile.

"Better than last time," he said. Yeah, that audition had been a proper mess.

"You'll be fine," Harry said, reassuring Louis as best as he could. "We practised your solo, like, a million times. You got this."

Louis squeezed his hand as a way of saying thank you and didn't utter his still remaining worries out loud. He was terrified because he was the one opening the goddamn song. He had a solo up until the chorus, which was absolutely terrifying. Still, he felt better than he did last time: he now felt properly prepared and a lot more ready, considering that he had practised for hours on end, sometimes driving Harry mental with the number of times he said he had to start over because _I hit the note wrong, Haz, I heard it myself_. 

For the next twelve minutes (because that was how long it took before they were called on) they talked about everything but Zayn's dad and their upcoming performance. 

With his hands slightly trembling, Louis followed his best friends onto the stage, met with some mediocre applause. Each of them got a microphone, and once they were all settled, it was up to Louis to greet the audience. He noticed his sisters and mother sitting somewhere in the middle of the crowd, and when his mother sent him a thumbs up, he took a deep breath and brought the microphone to his lips.

"Hi everyone," he said and felt proud of himself when his voice didn't crack, something he had expected from himself. "We're One Direction, and we'll be singing Valerie for you tonight."

Another small round of applause.

Then first few notes of the song started, and with a jump of his heart, Louis started singing. " _Well sometimes I go out by myself, and I look across the water. And I think of all the things, what you're doing and in my head, I paint a picture."_

His eyes automatically drifted to Harry, who was looking at him a proud smile, which was enough to encourage him to sing a bit louder, take just a bit more of a risk.

"' _Cause since I've come on home, well my body's been a mess, and I've missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress. Won't you come on over, stop making a fool out of me_ ," Louis sang, his eyes meeting Zayn's because their joined part was about to come up.

" _Why don't you come on over, Valerie?_ "

After that, the performance went by much quicker than Louis would've preferred. After Zayn's and then Harry's solo and a couple of joined parts, Louis was suddenly bowing to thunderous applause alongside his best friends, looking into his mother's proud eyes and grinning at a couple of classmates he recognised.

As soon as they were backstage, Harry kissed him fiercely, pulling him into a bathroom. "I told you you'd smash it," he mumbled against Louis' lips, causing Louis to grin. 

"Fucking showed them, did I?" He said, his grin widening when Harry nodded in agreement.

"Had them at your feet."

They have to wait for over an hour after that until they're all called back on stage to hear which acts had made it through to the final round (the final round would determine who would go to the national contest, which meant that there was a lot at stake here). The longer they had to wait, the more restless they got. They tried to watch the other acts, but just made themselves feel like they had less of a chance at getting through to the final round, so they retreated backstage again.

They were in a heated battle of trying to see who could throw the most paper balls in the rubbish bin in one minute when they got called, and Louis anxiously grabbed Harry's hand as they walked back to the stage. It was when they were amongst the other contestants that Louis realised that the winners would get handed a rose as some sort of temporary prize.

Two girls that did a dancing act got a rose. Then a guy who played the piano. A couple that did a duet. A girl that was freakishly good with a hula hoop.

And then, finally, One Direction got a rose as well. Louis was so happy that he had promptly kissed Harry, earning a couple of whistles from the audience. The group celebrated maybe a bit too felicitous, especially compared to the others that had received a rose as well, but at that moment, they didn't care much. They were just glad they made it through to the next round.

Afterwards, Louis and Harry met up with Jay and the girls a bit further in the back of the auditorium. For some reason, Jay had tears in her eyes, and Louis found it odd, considering that she didn't have to be _that_ proud. They still had another round to go, and then a second one to win the scholarship. He was starting to have a bit more confidence in that idea.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart," Jay said, putting a hand on Louis' cheek and then turning to Harry. "You too, darling. I'm a very proud mama."

Harry beamed, and Louis has to stop himself from jumping Harry right then and there. He would never get enough of that particular, dimpled smile.

"Why are you crying, mum?" he asked instead of jumping Harry, placing his hand on his mother's shoulder.

"Got some good news," Jay said, her smile widening. "The firm called me back just now. I got the job, Louis."

Louis needed a moment to collect himself. A whirlwind of thoughts suddenly hit him. There wouldn't be a worry about money anymore. They could get groceries every week. They could do fun things with the girls. They could do reparations around the house.

At a loss for words, Louis pulled his mother into a tight hug, tears gathering in his eyes because  _oh, my God._ "Mum," he quietly said, not knowing how to continue.

"I know, boobear, I know," Jay said, and Louis didn't even mind the nickname at the moment. 

For some reason, his life was getting better and better with each passing day. Things were looking up more and more, which (had it been earlier on in his life) Louis would've found suspicious. Now, however, he was just happy about it. By now, he thought it was safe to say that he deserved a bit more of an easier life, all things considered.

Now, all it had to do was last.

❈

It didn't last.

It was only a couple of days later that Louis' bubble already popped. He was preparing dinner with Harry in Harry's kitchen, messing about with the ingredients and teasing Harry who would do it right back. Harry had put on a playlist to create some background music, which made for a cosy atmosphere inside the kitchen. Louis would nearly dare call it romantic.

"You're driving me mental."

Louis grinned at Harry and kissed his cheek. "That's not my problem," he said, giggling as he watched Harry try to get some flour out of his hair.

The flour was for the recipe they had chosen: fried chicken. It was nearly an hour after they had started, and they had yet to fry anything.

"If I'd do it to you you'd be pissed at me," Harry said, shaking out his curls.

"That's because I'm a hypocrite," Louis said with a playful look in his eyes, "and I'm not afraid to admit that."

Harry laughed and reached around Louis to grab the bowl with the different mixed herbs. Just as he did so, Louis' phone started ringing. He wiped his hands off on his jeans and grabbed his phone off the counter, picking up the call and putting it to his ear.

"Louis speaking," he said, not bothering to be polite to the unknown number calling him as he cheekily checked Harry out, who pretended not to notice.

"Louis?" A male voice said, sounding a bit surprised and even nervous. "Louis Tomlinson?"

"Yeah, that's me," Louis said, plucking the bowl with flour from Harry's hands with a grin, just to tease him a bit more. "Can I help you, mate? You need anything?"

There was a small silence on the other side. Louis frowned at Harry who stopped trying to grab the bowl back at seeing Louis' expression. "Louis, it's me," the man then said.

Another small silence.

"Your father."

It felt as though someone had just tossed a bucket of ice cold water over Louis. He dropped the bowl with herbs in shock, momentarily feeling as if he couldn't breathe. 

His father. The same father who left Louis and his mother when Louis was less than a year old. The same father who hadn't contacted him in over seventeen years. The same father who had up and left as if Louis had meant nothing to him and as if his mother had meant nothing to him.

"Funny," Louis croaked out, not meeting Harry's worried eyes.

"I'm serious, Louis, it’s your dad, Troy."

Louis breathed out shakily, shaking his head. "What... I..." he stuttered, at a loss for words. His eyes ultimately met Harry's, and something clicked within him. "Don't call me again."

"Louis, please, I—"

"I said, don't fucking call me again."

Louis hung up his phone and tossed it on the counter as soon as he did, rubbing a hand over his face in complete disbelief. His father had decided to come back into his life at last, then. But why now?

"Lou? Who was that?" Harry carefully asked, pure concern displayed on his features. Louis sighed, shaking his head to himself. He still wasn't sure what to make of what had just happened.

"My sad excuse of a dad."


	29. Chapter XXIX.

It was unusual, even for the Tomlinson family, to set up a Christmas tree as late as they were doing now. It was a Friday, and only three days until Christmas, which meant only two days until Louis' birthday. It was odd, to set up the tree this late, but in a way, it made sense.

It wasn't like Louis' or his mother's minds were exactly focused on a Christmas tree, considering the things they had to deal with. Louis had to deal with Niall's girlfriend, the financial worries, the talent show, Zayn's home situation, and now his father, who had abruptly returned to his life, too. His mother had other things to worry about too, like a new boyfriend.

Yeah,  _that_ had happened. Apparently, Jay now had a boyfriend. In the end, it made sense, because everything added up: Jay forgetting to take of the girls on Wednesday, coming home late, unbothered with finalising her divorce with Mark and the excitement whenever 'Daniel' called all added up. She had, however, promised Louis that he and his sisters would always come first, no matter what. 

For the first time in a long time, Louis believed her.

Her job was going well. She was having fun, was doing regular hours and was making some good money (as good as it could be, considering she was only a secretary). 

"Careful with that, Fiz, it's fragile."

Louis had yet to tell his mum about the phone call he had received from his dad. The only person who knew was Harry, who was helping set up the tree, giving some advice and warnings here and there. Louis himself hadn't spoken in nearly an hour, lost in thought about his current dilemma.

His mum was happy at the moment, there was no reason to ruin that. He didn't want to ruin it either. However, he kept getting phone calls from his dad, something he could only ignore for so long, and it was weighing down on his chest. Why did he choose now to be a good moment to come back? What did he expect, for Louis to accept his apology (assuming that was what he wanted to do; apologise) and to celebrate Christmas as one big happy family?

"Girls, would you come help your mum in the kitchen, please?" said Jay somewhere from inside the kitchen. Albeit reluctantly, Louis' sisters momentarily abandoned their decorating task and went to help their mother.

Noticing Louis' quiet behaviour, Harry used his short moment of freedom to sit down beside him on the couch. "You alright?" he asked, rubbing a tentative hand over Louis' knee.

"Yeah, just thinking," Louis said, admitting to being a lot less talkative than he usually was.

"About?"

"Troy."

Harry furrowed his brows together. "Troy being your--"

"Don't," Louis quickly interrupted, giving Harry a warning look. "Can't have my mum hear that. Besides, he's not my dad. Never was, never will be."

"I take it you haven't called him yet, then?" Harry asked. For some reason, Harry wanted Louis to call his dad back. The first time he had suggested the idea, Louis had given him a firm glare and had simply told him that his dad wasn't worth a single second of his attention. The fact that the man had left was one thing, but that he then seemed to think that he could come back when it was convenient for him was a whole other thing.

"Of course I haven't."

Harry looked at him for a moment. "Has he been leaving voicemails?"

Of course had he been leaving voicemails. Not that Louis had listened to any of them: he had better things to do. "Yeah."

"You haven't listened to them?" Harry asked, but then pulled a face and chuckled weakly. "Nevermind. Like I don't know the answer to that already."

Louis shrugged. He didn't exactly have the desire to talk about his dad, but for some reason, Harry seemed insistent. With a small sigh, he pointed at one of the handmade Christmas ornaments in the tree. "See that one?" He asked, referring to the one with the fingerprints scattered over it.

"Don't try to change the subject, Louis."

"Made it the day my dad left," Louis said, ignoring Harry's words and successfully shutting Harry up. "The day before my birthday. We made the fucking thing together. After we finished, he brought me to bed, told me good night, said he loved me, and then left. Just like that." 

Louis looked at Harry again. "Asked my mum every single day, 'When is dad going to come back?'. She said Christmas, just never _which_ Christmas exactly," he said, looking down at his hands. "Guess he chose this one."

There was a tense silence that followed, and for a short second, Louis wondered if it had been out of place for him to talk about his daddy issues  _now,_ so close to the holidays. 

"I'm sorry," Harry eventually said. Louis glanced at him. "Your dad sounds like a proper wanker."

It caused Louis to laugh. "He is," he simply said, and right after he did, his sisters ran back into the living room, giggling about something. "What are you lot laughing about, ay?"

Lottie simply smiled. "Your Christmas present."

"I thought I wasn't getting a present this year," Louis said, purposely glancing over his shoulder and giving his mother, who was leaning against the doorframe, a deliberately meaningful look.

"I suppose Santa just couldn't help himself this year," she said, giving Louis a not so subtle wink. Louis shook his head while trying to keep down a smile, turning back to his sisters who were now enthusiastically decorating the tree again.

Well, for only a moment. It only took a couple of seconds for Phoebe to suddenly scramble over to Harry, resting her arms over his leg. "My mummy knows Santa Clause."

"Really?" Harry immediately replied, always easy with talking to children. "They must be good friends, then?"

"Yeah, she told him what present to give to Louis!"

"Wow, that's really cool! Have you met him too?"

As their conversation continued, Louis found his thoughts drifting once again. They ended up at Gemma, Harry's sister, who would arrive on Christmas morning. she and Louis had been talking a lot lately and had come up with a plan to surprise Harry come Christmas day. Louis just hoped Harry would be happy with it.

Something in him told him he'd be more than happy: it was Harry, after all.

 

 

Louis should've known he wouldn't be in the mood for a party. Especially not when he was the main focus of the bloody thing. He wasn't about to utter his discomfort out loud, simply because he knew how much effort Harry had put into it and Louis just didn't want to ruin the fun for Harry. That was the thing about love: you made sacrifices, even ones as small as going to parties you didn't feel like attending.

His mates were definitely having fun. Zayn, Liam and Niall had taken it upon themselves to get completely smashed, frequently returning to Louis to wish him a happy birthday. They didn't seem to care about the fact that they had done so multiple times already. 

For his birthday presents, Louis had received mostly birthday cards with money inside, all of which he was going to put on his mother's savings account so that she could use it for groceries or other necessities. Harry had told him not to. Louis wasn't going to listen. 

Speaking of Harry... Louis' boyfriend wasn't too sober anymore. This was partly to blame on Louis, mostly because he hadn't been watching Harry as well as he had promised himself he would. He had wanted to keep Harry mostly sober as to prevent a hangover, all because of Gemma, who would be arriving somewhere around six p.m., just in time for dinner. Louis had heard about her plans from another long text conversation.

 

_**Hi Louis! I'm taking the train at 2:25 tomorrow  
Arriving at 5:45! Can't wait :)** _

**Need me to pick you up?**

_**No need, the train station is a short walk  
Will text when I arrive tho, so you can open the door** _

**Sounds good  
Harry's going to love it :)**

_**I honestly can't wait!!** _

__

Thankfully, it was nearing two am, and a lot of people had already left. It made sense, considering nobody wanted to stay too late because of it being Christmas day. Nobody was dense enough to walk around with a hangover on a day like that.

It took another hour until the house was finally empty, leaving only Zayn and Liam asleep on the couch, Niall in one of the guest rooms with a girl Louis didn't know the name of, and Harry and Louis themselves in Harry's bedroom.

Harry was on his back, smack in the middle of the bed, drunkenly mumbling about things Louis couldn't decipher, or simply didn't care about. As he attempted to get out of his skinny jeans without falling flat on his face, his thoughts slowly drifted back to his father.

Apparently, Harry was thinking about the worthless fucker as well, when he suddenly muttered, a lot louder and more distinguishable than he had been the last three hours, "I'm jealous of you and your dad."

It took Louis a moment to regroup. It was the last thing he had expected to hear at the moment. "What are you talking about?"

"You and your dad."

"No, I got that part. I meant the jealous part."

There was a short silence. "My dad left too," Harry said, his voice slurred. "But mine never came back. Yours did. Want the same."

Louis didn't know how to reply. He simply stared at Harry, finding that everything was starting to click. The fact that Harry had been so insistent on Louis calling back his dad was because Harry longed for the same thing. Opposed to Louis, Harry did want contact with his father again. He wanted to reconnect. 

Perhaps Harry did miss his own father. Louis did too, to some degree, but not enough to want to reconnect. No, he hated his father and what he had done far too much for that. Harry's situation was probably different. 

All of a sudden, it made sense to Louis.

"My dad is not that great, Haz," Louis then said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Nothing to miss about him."

Harry didn't reply. When Louis looked over, he found that Harry had fallen asleep. He sighed and shook his head to himself, making a mental note to talk to Harry about what he had said to Louis.

That bubble of happiness never really did stay intact.


End file.
